


Killer Instinct

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-30
Updated: 2005-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 36,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: What happens when something threatens to take away everything Brian loves the most?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

The sickening crunch as metal met metal, followed by a tight thin scream from the precious cargo in the back of the sedan was the last thing Justin could remember before blackness overtook the intense pain.

 

“Hi, Justin can you go over to Lindsay and pick up Gus for me, my meeting is going overtime and I won’t make it by 5, like I promised.”

Justin noted the preoccupied air Brian had even on the phone. He knew the importance of this meeting for Kinnetek, the other clothing companies would fall over themselves to choose Kinnetek for their advertising if this major company became one of Brian’s clients. 

“Sure Honey,” Justin’s attempt at falsetto almost replicated Brian’s when he was pretending to be ‘dutiful wife’.

“Thanks dear,” Brian echoed back, laughing. 

Justin thought back to his return from LA, moving back in with Brian. He expected it to be much harder, but he just seemed to fit straight back into his old life. Even to going back to college and working part-time in the diner. Of course he didn’t really need to work there any more, his earnings from the RAGE comic plus his savings from his time in LA meant he could be relatively independent from Brian.

Life was looking very good, he was happily anticipating spending time with Brian and Gus this weekend. He always thought that Gus brought out the best in Brian, although since the cancer scare Brian seemed much more comfortable sharing his ‘caring side’.

‘Yeah, but it doesn’t stop him behaving like an arsehole sometimes, maybe an arsehole with a heart.’

He smiled to himself as he thought of some of the more ridiculously romantic actions Brian had done, even if sometimes they were more obscure than most people would think.

Not many people would think of an adjustable easel that both Justin and Gus could use is romantic, but Justin could not keep the tears from coming to his eyes as he realized the thoughts behind the action.

He hurried out of the loft to the ‘family sedan’ he automatically placed Brian’s sarky intonation around the term; checking that Gus’ booster seat was in the back.

He still had to pinch himself to make him believe that this was reality. He thought back to the time after the bashing where he could not believe Brian did love him. It took lots of therapy, although he still couldn’t believe that not only did Brian encourage his attendance at the sessions he even came to some.

He smirked to himself as he recalled Brian’s faux in-depth analysis of their therapist’s clothing and fashion sense, delivered with the same intonation and expressions that the therapist himself used. It was Brian’s way of subtly discounting all the emotions they’d worked through during the sessions. They both knew there was still some hard work ahead but the outlook had never seemed so positive.

Justin thought back to some of the revelations Brian had made. He was astounded at how hurt Brian had been when he got tangled up with that psycho, Cody. He hadn’t realized at the time that Brian was even serious about his warnings, let alone that he was genuinely worried and stressed because of his recklessness. The further revelation that Brian was even more upset that Justin was so ‘out of tune with him’ that he couldn’t get the message behind the sarcastic remarks and that he chose to ignore them really stunned Justin.

He remembered feeling the tears pricking behind his eyes as he heard the pain in Brian’s low voice, “I thought you knew me Justin, you said you were ‘onto me’ but you were so into being the gung ho hero you couldn’t really hear what I was saying at all. That hurt nearly as much as the fact that I felt you cared so little for your own safety you were willing to endanger it recklessly.”

Not even the incredible sex that followed that session when they got back to the loft, entirely eliminated the guilt that Justin felt following that incredible revelation.

It was this reflection that led him to recall the look Chris Hobbs had given him at the Institute the other day. He couldn’t believe that of all the people to win the contract for the new buildings being constructed at PIFA, it was Chris’ company that won. Now each day he would have to face that bastard. His hate permeating and intensifying the stares he threw in Justin’s direction. Even when Chris had his back to him he could feel the hatred pouring off in waves.

‘Fuck this must be Karma or something!” Justin hadn’t told Brian about the night in front of Chris house, how he had demeaned Chris and made fhim feel helpless as he had felt the night of the prom. He would never forget the defeated look in Hobb’s eyes or the feelings of loathing and self-disgust that he had felt at the time.

He shook the memories away as he parked the sedan out the front of Lindsay’s new apartment, looking forward to having some time with Gus.


	2. Killer Instinct

The phone call was put through immediately, Cynthia overriding Brian’s objections with a terse, “There’s been an accident, Justin and Gus are in the hospital.”

Brian’s universe collapsed.

His mind unswervingly reverting to the horror night of the prom, he couldn’t even remember driving to the hospital, let alone apologizing in the middle of his presentation.

He arrived at the hospital in a state of complete shock.

He looked across and saw Lindsay; his shock reflected in her eyes.

“They said we have to wait out here. They, they said that . . .Oh God Brian, they looked . . . ” Lindsay broke off unable to speak.

Brian shook himself, trying to find some semblance of the man he liked to show the world, the one in automatic charge of any situation.

He stormed up to the front desk, demanding to know what was happening with Justin and Gus.

The nurse looked calmly up from her task, “And your relation to these people is?”

Brian fought for calm, resisting the urge to reach across the desk, grab the nurse by her scrawny neck and shake the information from her.

“My name is Brian Kinney. I am Gus’ father and Justin’s life partner.”  
‘I am closer to them than you will ever be to anybody in your poor pathetic life!’

“I am sorry sir but we are unable to release information to anyone other than direct family. Ms Peterson gave the information an Gus including his legal guardians. They are Ms Peterson and Ms Marcus.”

The nurse’s deliberately calm, measured tones had the same effect as fingernails scraping down the blackboard.

“Linds tell this fucking Cunt that I am Gus’ father and Justin’s lover and I have every right to know what is happening.”

Lindsay looked up, as if she knew she heard something but couldn’t quite work out what it was. 

Brian threw up his hands and swung around, about to mount another assault on the hapless nurse behind the counter.

The nurse’s hand hovered over the button that would bring security racing through the glass doors to her right.

Brian saw the emergency doctor burst through the doors, out of the corner of his eye, he absently noted that Lindsay hadn’t moved.

He swung round from his confrontation with the nurse, relieved to see that it was the same doctor who had seen Justin after the prom.

“Dr Reid, tell me what’s happening. How is Justin, how is Gus.”

Brian felt like his heart was being ripped apart as he watched the doctor carefully considering his words.

“Justin has multiple injuries, the worst of which are some complicated fractures in his left leg. It was touch and go for a while as the shattered bones impeded his circulation in the leg, but we were able to remove the fragments and save the leg. He is in High Dependency but the outlook is good, there were no injuries to the brain, thank God.”

Brian felt himself shaking with relief, “And Gussy?”

He was certain if Justin was ok Gus would be too. 

After all they’d brought the best protective seat on the market. It was guaranteed to protect him. It got 5 stars for Christ’s sake.

Then he noticed that the pause was even longer.

“What? Tell me, how is Gus?”

“Mr Kinney. .”

“Brian.” The correction was automatic.

“Brian, Gus' seat became separated from the securing bolt attaching it to the rear mounting, by the force of the impact from the other vehicle. The seat and Gus were thrown into the front of the sedan, between the airbags that had deployed. Gus hit his head. He is in a coma, there is obvious swelling beneath the skull. We don’t yet know the full extent of the damage, we are employing extreme cold to limit the swelling and plan to keep him in the coma if possible to give his little body the chance to recover more fully.”

He reached out his hand to steady Brian as he looked like his legs were about to collapse beneath him.

Brian looked across at Lindsay, but she still stared straight ahead, unable to absorb any information, still desperately trying to deal with the fact that her beautiful baby boy was fighting for his life.


	3. Killer Instinct

Michael and Ben came bursting through the doors.

Ben raced over and placed him arms gently around Lindsay. Lindsay gave no indication that she even knew he was there. Still sitting stiffly upright and staring at a point on a wall directly in front of her.

Michael went straight over to Brian, tentatively putting his arm around him.

“Are you ok?” concern radiated from Michael’s face.

Brian tried hard for a smile to reassure his friend but could only come up with a pained grimace, “I’m dazzling, fucking fabulous! Couldn’t be better!”

Michael took a step back at the bitterness and anger bubbling beneath the surface. He decided it was probably more sensible and safer to steer clear of asking Brian questions about his feelings.

“Have the doctors said anything? How are they?”

Brian was unable to keep the look of pain and terror passing across his striking features.

“Justin had multiple fractures, and Gus . . .”

“Mr Kinney, Brian, Justin is in recovery, he seems to have come through the operation as well as can be expected but time will tell. As we already know he has remarkable spirit and determination for one so young. You can go in to see him now,” the doctor’s soft, calm voice saved Brian from voicing the words he knew he couldn’t say, if he said the words they became his reality and he refused to believe his son might . . .

Brian shook himself as if to awaken from a nightmare, unconsciously squared his shoulders and went to follow the doctor, Michael close by his side.

“Sorry, Mr er?”

“Novotny, but call me Michael.” Michael’s eyes never strayed from Brian’s form.

“Family only. The patient needs as little disturbance as possible. He is in a serious but stable condition.” Dr Reid looked at Michael as if he thought he was the last person who should be visiting Justin.

Michael stared at the doctor, challenge clearly in his eyes, “I am family, He’s my best friend, tell him Brian.”

Brian sighed and looked at Michael, “I don’t have time for this shit! Just take me to Justin, Doc, then I’d like to see my son.”  
Brian held Justin’s hand, tenderly staring at the beautiful, broken body on the bed. His reddened eyes again streaming with tears; which fell unheeded onto the covers partially hiding Justin’s bruised and battered body.

“Fuck Justin, this is some way to get out of babysitting our kid!”

Brian was gently stroking the small area of Justin’s cheek that was not bandaged or bruised.

He gazed intently at Justin’s face as if trying to memorize every dip, plane and angle.

He studiously ignored the frame supporting Justin’s leg and the tubes protruding rudely from his nose, chest and hand.

 

He leaned over careful not to touch anything that may have caused the slightest discomfort to this precious being, placing his lips to the cold cheek; desperately fighting the strong urge to take the young man in his arms and never let him go.

The nurse coughed once, waiting expectantly for the gorgeous guy leaning over the patient’s bed to acknowledge his presence.

Brian was lost in the face of his love, once more tenderly stroking his fingers lightly over the small space on Justin’s cheek. It was almost as if he wanted to use all his senses to lock Justin’s smell, taste and texture into his memory, so that any time he was forced to spend away he could always bring him to mind without effort.

The nurse coughed once more, placing his hand gently on Brian’s shoulder, Dr Reid told me to let you know you can see your son now.

Brian looked up into the sympathetic, yet hopeful eyes fixed on his. He wiped his face on the back of his hand, sniffing, still not seeming to notice the presence of the other man who was handing him a box of tissues.

He reluctantly turned.

The nurse caught his breath, this beautiful man looked like he was trying to pull himself back from the brink of hell itself.

He wordlessly held out the box of tissues, then whispered, “If there is anything else you need, I’ll be more than happy to supply it.”

Brian did not even notice the not so subtle invitation he had just received, he could not seem to drag himself away from Justin’s bedside. He resumed his stroking of Justin’s hand and cheek, unconsciously falling into the same pattern of breathing as Justin, trying to breathe for and with the body lying on the bed.

“Bri?” Lindsay’s soft voice laced with agony and shock, brought Brian swinging round.

He looked at Lindsay’s tearstained face, torn between the urge to comfort the suffering friend from his childhood and the need to stay as close as possible to Justin.

“Brian, they said we can see Gus now.” 

Lindsay’s broken voice, hoarse with crying, pulled Brian from his indecision.

He stood up, kissing Justin softly on the top of his head. He seemed to stand like an old man, slowly and stiffly.

He walked over to Lindsay, half reluctant to embrace her as if this gesture too would make the situation more real.

Lindsay half fell, half collapsed into Brian’s arms. He was left with no choice but to enfold her and try to give her some of his strength.

‘My strength? Huh, that’s a fucking joke, my strength is lying in that fucking bed! How can I walk out of this door? I can’t seem to find the strength to even do that.’ Brian struggled to give no sign of these negative thoughts to Lindsay.

Lindsay straightened up in his arms.

“I – I – I’m okay,” she sniveled, not looking okay at all. In fact shipwreck survivors stranded for months have looked better.

She pushed back out of Brian’s arms, still holding frantically to his hand.

“We have to, we have to . . .”

“I know, I just don’t think I can!” Brian wasn’t sure if he’d said the words out loud or not. He forced his legs to move him to the door, turning to take a last look at Justin.

The nurse turned from checking the instruments and adjusting the drip to administer more pain relief.

“I’ll watch him,” he said, sighing when he realized that the gorgeous hunk in the doorway was never going to look at him the way he looked at his young patient.

Once in the passage Brian seemed to regain some of his old confidence. He looked at Lindsay, “Do you know where to go?”

Lindsay nodded, “He’s not in the children’s ward, he needs, he needs. . .”  
Again Lindsay dissolved into tears. Brian held her as the sobs racked her body.

“Linds, Linds, we have to hold it together, we can’t let ourselves become basket cases. For them, we can’t fail them.”

He gently lifted Lindsay’s chin so she could look into his eyes.

“Besides Justin would never let us live it down if we were to let our drama queen moments get the better of us. We aren’t Temmets, we are strong, we can do this.”

‘Who the fuck are you kidding Kinney, all you want to do is go and throw yourself on that bed and hold him and never leave! Strong? You’ve never felt more vulnerable in your entire life.’

Lindsay sniffed, half laughing, “Fuck you Brian! You don’t fool me! I know you!”

“Yeah, well,” Brian pushed his tongue into his cheek, smirking at her, knowing she’d just called him on his bullshit as she so often did; partially relieved because it meant she was thinking now not just blindly reacting to the disaster.

They supported each other as they made their way to the Intensive Care Unit down the hall.

They reported to the nurse’s station, waiting to be allowed admittance through the heavy doors, unwilling to look through the window.

 

The nurse in charge looked up, “Brian Kinney, Lindsay Peterson? Dr Reid told us to expect you; there has been no change in your son’s condition. We usually only allow one person at a time, but Dr Reid has given permission for you both to see Gus, but I must remind you that you only have ten minutes. We must adhere strictly to the time limits. This is hospital policy and there are no exceptions.”

Lindsay and Brian looked at each other, “Well here we go boys and girls.”

Together they entered the ICU slowly and deliberately making their way to the small bed, which contained their son.

Lindsay let out a small gasp as she slowly allowed her stunned gaze to wander over the multitude of tubes and monitors surrounding the tiny defenceless figure. 

Brian’s gaze was fixed on the slight but regular rise and fall of the baby’s frail chest, terrified that if he looked away for even one second the movement might stop.

Lindsay’s fingernails were digging painfully into Brian’s wrist but Brian remained oblivious. She could not bring herself to come closer to her baby. She kept glancing down at him, only to look up again at the monitor staring at the waves, continuously moving; which reminded her that her son still lived.

Brian gently removed Lindsay’s hand from one of his wrists, reaching out tentatively to stroke his son’s hand. Unlike Justin there weren’t many bandages, aside from the one wrapped around the baby’s head, a stark reminder that there was nothing natural about this sleep.

The colour had drained from Lindsay’s face, she kept wanting to scream, “You’re wrong this isn’t my son. There’s been some terrible mistake, my son is at home playing happily with his Jussy Bear, waiting for his daddy to come pick him up.”

Her eyes seemed to get wilder as she began to shrink in on herself, Brian caught her just before she hit the floor.

A nurse came unhurriedly, efficiently to his side, “It’s ok, I’ll take her outside for a while. This reaction is not unusual, the stress, the machines, the oppressive atmosphere can be too hard for some relatives.”

Brian gently passed Lindsay over to the nurse, supporting her until he was certain the nurse could take her weight.

Lindsay groaned, the nurse looked over her shoulder at Brian, “You have three minutes left Mr Kinney.”

Brian nodded, then turned back to the miniature replica of him attached to all the machines.

He took a deep breath, “Well sonny boy, here we are. Don’t mind your mama, she’s just sad you got hurt. So you gotta get better so she won’t be sad any more. We love you, you know that don’t you? I’ll even read Dr Seuss when you visit the loft, not just get Justin to do it. You have to get better, Justin and daddy would be so sad if you couldn’t come and draw and play with us any more.”

Brian didn’t notice the tears that had started to pour down his cheeks again or the sobs that were shaking his body.

He saw a nurse approach to check on his baby boy. She looked at him sympathetically, sadly used to seeing family members in such conditions.

She checked the baby meticulously and efficiently all movements designed to cause little or no disturbance to the tiny baby.

She tapped her watch silently indicating to Brian that his visiting time with his son was over.

Brian looked about to argue then seemed to change his mind, he half walked half stumbled out of the muted light of the ICU into the harsh bright light of the passage outside.

Lindsay was waiting for him, her face once more wearing that distant look of concealed pain and shock.

Brian put his arm around her, slowly leading her back to the waiting room.

As they pushed the swinging doors open, they were immediately enfolded by Debbie’s arms, her usually raucous voice almost soft with concern as she asked for news.

Brian and Lindsay just looked at her, unable to speak.

“Mr Kinney, how is Mr Taylor? We were told he was not too badly injured and that we should be able to speak to him soon.”

Brian turned slowly eventually focusing on the two uniformed men in front of him, placing a protective arm around Lindsay.

“What?”

“We need to ask Mr Taylor a few questions about the incident.”

“Mr Taylor is not to be disturbed. He hasn’t even woken up yet. What do you bastards want with him anyway?”

Brian looked like a mother tiger ready to protect her cub at any cost.

“We are very sorry Mr Kinney, but we have to insist, the minute Mr Taylor is able, we need to speak to him.”

“Why, it wasn’t his fault. When he has my son in the car even little old ladies pass him, no one could drive more carefully.”

“Hasn’t anyone told you sir? There were suspicious circumstances involved in this crash. It looks like Mr Taylor’s car was deliberately rammed into from the side. We have been unable to locate the other vehicle involved.”

“You mean someone deliberately ran into Justin and my son?”

“I’m afraid so sir, all the evidence points to that conclusion.”


	4. Killer Instinct

Brian lifted his red-rimmed eyes to glare at the officer in front of him, his whispered words came out low and menacing, “You’d better find the prick quick, before I do. If I find him first I’ll kill him.”

The words reverberated around the room, all conversation stopped and all eyes turned towards Brian.

Emmet raced through the doors unaware of the reason for the tense silence. He looked around in bewilderment, “Michael rang me, he said there’d been an accident. Is everyone ok? Oh my God, where’s Justin?”

Emmet stared at the solemn faces, taking in Brian’s red-rimmed eyes and Lindsay’s vacant look.

“Brian, is our baby alright?”

Debbie released Brian and placed a reassuring arm around Emmet’s shoulder, at least as much of it as she could reach.

“Come over here, doll, I’ll catch you up.”

Dr Reid came hurrying in and went straight up to Brian.

“Justin’s waking up, did you want to go in, he’s asking for you?”

He was just about to reenter the Accident and Emergency section when he was intercepted by one of the police officers nearby.

“Is Mr Taylor alright to talk to us, we need to get his statement as soon as possible.”

“Well I can’t say how much of the accident he will remember, but he seems relatively lucid. As long as you don’t upset him and keep your questions brief; as his doctor I have no objections.”

Brian blocked the doorway with his body, “You can’t see him until I do. I’ll ask him if he thinks he is ok to answer any questions you might have. I also want myself or Melanie Marcus our lawyer to be present during the questioning.”

Both the police looked taken aback, while Brian’s friends looked knowingly at each other, this was more like the Brian Kinney they knew and loved.

“Very well Mr Kinney, please remember the importance of any information Mr Taylor may have. It is imperative we have this knowledge as soon as possible.”

Brian scowled at the two men, “You think I don’t fucking know that? I have my lover injured and my son fighting for his life in this fucking hospital. You think I don’t want to catch the bastard that put them there?”

He stormed through the doors and down the passage, fighting to rein in his temper so he would be calm when seeing Justin.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly then turned the handle and entered Justin’s room.

Justin was laying still, eyes closed; Brian was tempted to back out and let him sleep. He’d even started to move his heel back toward the door when Justin opened his eyes. Brian flew to the bedside, not even bothering to hide his haste.

“Hey,” Justin swallowed painfully, his throat still a little dry and sore from the tube.

Brian automatically reached for the water on the cabinet beside the bed.

As their hands met on the glass they gazed into each other’s eyes, seemingly mesmerized by the sight of each other.

Justin winced as he tried to lift his head to the glass, Brian swiftly placed his arm around Justin’s shoulder to support him, gently helping back onto the pillows when he’d finished.

Justin tried for a wry smile. The smile failed to reach his eyes, something Brian could not remember happening before except when they were trying to remember details from the prom. He felt an almost physical pain assault his heart.

“How?”

“Don’t,” Justin croaked, “Don’t fucking ask me how I am, I just might tell you!”

“Ok,” this time Brian gave Justin a wry grin, “just let me know, are you in pain? Cause at least we can do something about that.”

“Not really just uncomfortable, I keep wanting to itch my leg but nothing seems to want to move. I just feel kinda floaty.” 

Justin looked like he was fighting to stay awake, a dreamy smile passing over his face.

Brian stroked his cheek and Justin leaned into the gentle caress.

“There’s a couple of cops outside. They want to talk to you. Are you ok to talk to them?”

“Cops? What the fuck do they want?”

Brian looked torn, “It wasn’t an accident, someone deliberately rammed into you and Gus.”

At the mention of Gus, Justin looked alarmed, “I remember him screaming, then I think I blacked out. Is he ok?”

Brian looked away, staring at the apparatus supporting Justin’s leg.

The silence seemed to lengthen, Justin became more alarmed, “Brian, tell me, is Gus ok? Is he here? Have you seen him?”

Brian fought to keep the tears away as he finally decided it was better to tell Justin the truth than have him fear the worst. He swallowed and cleared his throat, “He’s in the ICU, he’s in an induced coma, he hit his head, the seat came loose.” He broke off, tears once more flowing down his cheeks as he remembered the tiny body looking so helpless and vulnerable in the small crib.

Justin reached out to grasp Brian’s hand, tears flowing freely.

“Fuck Justin, you have enough to worry about. I wasn’t going to tell you.”

Brian forced the tears back, kissing Justin lightly on his cheek and forehead.

Justin sniffed and then looked steadily back, “I’m glad you did, we promised not to keep anything from each other remember.”

Brian lifted one eyebrow, “I don’t think this situation was quite what we had in mind.”

Justin smiled back, “This type of situation that involved our feelings, you mean?”

“Fuck you Justin! I need to stay in control. I have to!” Brian looked like he was almost pleading with Justin to help him maintain control.

Justin relented, “Ok I won’t tell your secret, just remember I’m onto you! I know you. Oh God, how’s Linds? Is she ok?”

“She comes and goes, sometimes she’s with us and then others there just seems to be this shell of a Lindsay and the real Linds is hidden away somewhere deep inside.”

Again tears threatened to overtake Brian and again he fought them back.

Justin’s tears gave way to body wracking sobs as he thought of Lindsay and Gus, torn apart by sheer emotions and reactions.

Brian gently gathered the younger man into his arms, careful not to disturb his head or leg; comforting and kissing him until he became quiet and the sobs faded into occasional hiccoughs.

“I really fucked up this time,” the words came out in between sobs.

“It wasn’t your fault, I told you someone ran into you.”

“Do you want me to get those cops? Maybe you can remember something that might help them catch the bastard that did this.”

“Don’t go!” Justin’s voice was almost panicky.

“It’s ok, I’ll stay, if you want me to stay. If you don’t want to talk to the cops you don’t have to.”

“I’m such a fucking pussy, I just don’t want you to go, but I’ll talk to the cops if you think it will help.”

“Justin look at me, you are not a pussy! You are one of the bravest, best men I know. If it were me in that bed I’d be a fucking basket case, not to mention pissed off. You care more about Linds and Gus and me than the fact that your body has taken a fucking battering. You are fucking unbelievable!”

“If you don’t want me to leave the room I’ll stay, there’s a simple solution to our problem,” he took out his cell phone, then noticed the sign forbidding the use of mobile phoned within the hospital due to their effect on the machines. “Fuck, there goes that idea.”

Brian walked to the door, keeping eye contact with Justin the whole time. He opened the door looking up and down the passage, signaling one of the nurses as he saw her sweep past the door. She stopped in front of him, “There are two cops in the waiting area, could you please give them a message?”

“Of course,” the nurse said warmly, entranced by this beautiful male.

“Please let them know that Mr Taylor is ready to talk to them now.”

He swung round to look at Justin once more, “Are you sure?”

Justin looked back, started to nod his head, winced and said weakly, “Yeah!”

 

The large bulk of the police made Justin’s room look small.

Brian sat back down beside Justin’s bed, forcing the two officers to stand at the end of the bed.  
“Er, Mr Taylor, we won’t keep you long,” the officer looked nervously at Brian who resembled a mother bear protecting her young, holding Justin’s hand reassuringly.

“Can you remember anything about the incident at all?”

“I don’t remember much. I was driving along with Gus, buckled safely in the back. I think we were singing.” Justin broke off taking in a shaky breath and desperately fighting off tears as he thought of the time Gus and he were singing ‘Old MacDonald had a Farm’ at the top of their voices.

Brian stroked his hand, “Take your time Sunshine.”

“The lights turned green, the car in front of me drove into the intersection and I followed it. Then I remember seeing a flash of silver out of the corner of my eye. I heard the sound of metal screeching, and then Gus’ scream. I don’t remember anything after that.” The last words were almost whispered as exhaustion and shock again overcame Justin.

Brian took one look at Justin’s pale exhausted features and said firmly, “That’s it I think it’s time you gentlemen left.” His tone brooked no argument, the two officers looked at each other, shrugged and left.

“We’ll let you know if there are any developments.”

Justin didn’t even open his eyes.

“You do that.” Brian did not take his eyes off Justin’s face.

“Brian!” Justin’s eyes flew open in a panic.

“I’m right here, I told you I won’t ever leave you again.” he bent down kissing Justin sweetly on the lips.

Brian watched vigilantly as sleep finally came to ease Justin’s pain.


	5. Killer Instinct

Brian strode out of the doors back into the waiting room, surveying the scene.

He took in Debbie with her arms wrapped around Lindsay. Lindsay sat huddled beside her. Emmet was talking quietly to Ben and Michael. Dr Reid hurried in and approached Brian quietly.

“Brian,” Brian looked up, “We think we’ve stabilized the swelling in Gus’ skull but we can’t say what damage has occurred until he comes out of the coma. As far as we can tell there are no other injuries, so we have taken him off the medication to keep him in the coma. However we have no way of telling when he might awaken or what condition he will be in when it happens. Head injuries can be very unpredictable and he is not out of the woods yet. We will keep him in ICU for a while yet. I’m just finishing my shift but Dr Stevens is an extremely capable doctor, I’ve given him all the information he needs. Gus’ nurse is Jason and he is also very caring and capable. I am leaving your son in good hands.” Dr Reis looked intently at Brian.

Brian took a deep breath to steady himself, “Thanks doc, I know that you’ve stayed much longer than the end of your shift and I do appreciate it.”

He held his hand out to the doctor to shake hands.

“You have a wonderful son and lover Brian, you are a very fortunate man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Brian watched the doctor walk away, his slumped shoulders evidence of his exhaustion.

He turned to face his family and friends.

As one they looked at Brian, seeming to think he could somehow ‘fix’ things the way he always did.

He cleared his throat, fighting to keep his voice calm and even.

“Justin is asleep, and there is no real change for Gus although the swelling in his brain has stopped. I’m going to stay here, I’ll keep checking on Gus but they’ve set up a bed for me in Justin’s room. If you want to stay Linds they can arrange that too.”

Brian immediately noticed the alarmed look in Lindsay’s eyes. 

“It’s ok Linds, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. Michael or Emmet can take you back to your apartment if that's what you want.”

This time he saw that Lindsay had convulsively grabbed on to Deb’s arm.

“Bri, I don’t. . .I don’t . . . I can’t . . .go .. . empty!”

“You don’t want to go home to an empty apartment?” Brian asked softly; picturing Lindsay wandering around the apartment crying inconsolably as she saw Gus’ toys and other reminders of the dire situation strewn about the various rooms.

Lindsay nodded vigourously, burying her face into Debbie’s shoulder.

Debbie looked up, “It’s ok Brian, I’ll take her home with me. The doctor left some sleeping pills for her. We’ll ring you in the morning. If anything happens or you need any of us, just ring. Carl or me will drive Lindsay back in the morning when she’s ready.”

Lindsay looked relieved to have one less decision to make.

 

Debbie helped her up and walked up to Brian stretching up to embrace him; whispering, “We’re fucking proud of you kiddo!”

Emmet hugged Brian, sniffing dramatically.

Ben also went up and gave Brian a supportive hug, patting him on the back.

Michael enfolded Brian in his arms, “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“No Mikey, I’m fine, really.”

“You and Justin just never seem to get an even break do you? Did you ever wonder if maybe you two were really never meant to get together?”

‘Did I detect just a hint of malice there? Surely not, Mike got over his problems with Justin months ago. Fuck it, it must just be exhaustion making me paranoid.’

Brian watched his family and friends leave with a mixture of relief and apprehension. He was glad not to have to worry about anyone else but Justin and Gus, but was also fully conscious of the fact that he was now solely responsible for the two most precious lives in his world.

 

Brian waved to the nurse at the ICU station, who waved him in through the doors with a smile.

Brian’s gaydar was pinging wildly but despite his usual reaction to a crisis there was not even a twitch in response.

He moved quickly and quietly to his son, wondering absently how many times someone’s heart could break before it was beyond repair.

Again the tears flowed as he softly stroked his son’s silky smooth skin. He started to murmur to his son, telling him about Justin and all the things they might do once he had recovered. Later Brian could not have told anyone what he’d said to his son. He was just saying the first things that came into his head. He noticed Jason’s quiet approach, he could tell that he was going to be asked to leave by the nurse’s manner. He stood up slowly, still gently stroking the baby. He slowly bent over his son, suddenly reluctant to break contact but at the same time anxious to return to Justin. Steeling himself for the separation he kissed Gus, his lips softly brushing against Gus’ cheek, at the same time resisting the urge to take the boy into his arms and run away.

 

Brian could hear the alarm beeping as he turned the corridor to make his way to Justin’s room.

His heart stopped as he realized the sound was coming from Justin’s room and that nurses and doctors were racing in that direction.

He broke into a run bursting through the door.

“Get that man out of here!” 

The doctor’s terse command immediately alerted one nurse’s attention to Brian’s presence in the room.

“He is this boy’s partner doctor,” the nurse informed him in a low tone.

“I don’t care if he’s the pope himself, get him out of here now!”

Brian looked in bewilderment at the nurse applying oxygen and the other massaging Justin’s heart. He saw the crash cart with a sinking heart. He suddenly comprehended the seriousness of the situation and understood without being told that this was not time to throw a hissy fit. He had to leave and let the expert work or he may put Justin at even more risk.

He backed out the door.

‘This can’t be happening, any minute now someone is going to wake me up! Please God someone fucking wake me up.”

As tears streamed down Brian’s face once more he pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial for Michael and Ben’s flat. Ben answered the phone.

“Ben can I speak to Mikey please?”

“Brian what’s wrong, is Gus ok? Is Justin ok?” Ben’s deep concerned voice did nothing to calm Brian. He needed someone to tell him it was going to be ok. He needed his other best friend.

“Just put Mike on please,” he just managed to get the words out.

“Sorry Brian, Michael hasn’t got back yet, I took the girls home and then came back here to Hunter, but Michael hasn’t got back yet. I was about to ring his cell, maybe he got stuck on the freeway. I’ll tell him to ring you as soon as he gets in.”

Brian numbly hung up the phone.

“Fuck Mikey, where are you? I need you, now!”


	6. Killer Instinct

Brian paced up and down the waiting room, closely resembling a panther prowling up and down the cage.

Each time someone went to pass through the doors Brian would look up and the stranger would take a step back at the intensity radiating from the stormy hazel eyes.

At last he recognized one of the nurses who was in Justin’s room during the emergency. He went to intercept her but then hung back as she refused eye contact and raced behind the counter.

“Security, we need someone for room 523 immediately.”

The words were calm, efficient and concise and carved a gash a mile wide in Brian’s heart. ‘What the fuck? Why does Justin need security? What the fuck was going on?’

As the nurse hung up the phone he raced over to the station, this time refusing to allow her to move away without telling him anything.

“Excuse me!”

“I’m sorry sir, I have to get back to my patient.”

“Your patient is my partner, and I’d like to know what the fuck is going on,” Brian’s terse low tone penetrated the professional veneer.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I’m sure the doctor will be out in a minute. I have to go back. The doctor gave strict orders for the patient to have someone in attendance at all times, at least until security or the police arrive,” she neatly avoided actually pushing past Brian, but lithely managed to evade him; dashing once more along the corridor.

Brian looked thoughtfully after her for a couple of seconds; then followed her along the corridor and into Justin’s room.

He surveyed the scene, the resuscitation machine now over at the side of the room and the doctor writing something on a chart.

Doctor Stevens harassed face looked up in annoyance, “You really can’t be in here!”

“There is no force in heaven or hell that could make me move.”

The undercurrent of pain, concern, panic and aching loss made the doctor look harder at Brian.

“You’re the man Dr Reid told me about, Kinney?”

“Yeah, this is my partner Justin Taylor. Now, can you tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“You will need to keep your voice down Mr Kinney, your. . .er . . .partner has just been through a severe trauma and needs to rest.” 

The doctor sounded as though he was trying to swallow ground glass as he used the word ‘partner’.

Brian rolled his eyes; just what he needed another fucking homophobe.

“I’m afraid if you cannot keep your emotions in check we will have to have your forcibly removed.”

Brian glared steadily at the man, ‘If you were any stiffer, you wanker, you’d fucking snap like a twig.’

He mentally gave himself a shake, he would get nowhere if he antagonized this bastard, and this was definitely a time to employ the Kinney charm, snake oil, not poison for this fucker.

He lowered his voice, using a low level tone, all cool and calm concern, “Sorry doctor, my concern for my partner, over-rode my commonsense, I’m fully aware of the trauma Justin has been through.”

“And were you fully aware that someone has just attempted to murder your, partner?”

Brian felt the room spinning around him, he grabbed onto the cabinet beside him for support.

“What?” the whisper seemed to come from someone else’s mouth.

“Mr Kinney”, the small frame of the nurse seemed to have insinuated itself under Brian’s arms, subtly supporting him.

He looked into her eyes, clutching at reality like a man drowning.

Her soft voice helped him stay anchored, “The machines went crazy, we picked it up immediately at the station, by the time we got to the room the man had gone and there was a pillow over Justin’s face. He wasn’t breathing.”

Brian felt like he’d stopped breathing too.

The nurse helped him into the chair next to Justin’s bed.

“If you are happy to wait for security, I have other patients who need attention,” he huffed.

“I’ll wait with Mr Kinney.”

Brian looked up at his petite saviour, “Thanks.” The whisper was barely audible, he felt like he’d been run over by a truck.

“It’s ok, my brother is homosexual, I love him to bits. By the way homophobia is not really the doctor’s problem, he’s just an arsehole by nature.”

Brian tried to form a grin, but was saved from having to do so as two burly security men and the police officers from earlier in the night burst into the room.

“Out!”

At the back of his brain, Brian marveled at how such a slight little thing could cower four grown men as they all backed rapidly out of the room.

She silently stormed over to the door in her ripple soled nursing sneakers.

“How dare you burst into my patient’s room like that? You should know better!” the vehement hiss forced the men back into the corridor.

Brian blocked out the nurse berating and then informing the four men of the situation, and instead reached out and grasped Justin’s hand.

He lay his head softly onto the back of it; tears pouring down his cheeks and soaking into the sheets.

“Fuck Jus, what a mess!”


	7. Killer Instinct

“God Jus, that’s fucking perfect! Fuck, JUSTIN!!!!”

Justin swirled Brian’s cock lightly around in his mouth, keeping his lover teetering on the edge. Each time Brian would approach a tumultuous orgasm; Justin would ease off, placing his hand firmly around the base holding back the explosion, then slowly, torturously build him up again.

At last when Brian was whimpering for release, he deep-throated Brian’s entire prick, relaxing any last vestige of gag reflex and working his throat to ensure maximum stimulation, at the same time shoving two well-lubricated fingers into his tight, puckered hole.

Brian thought he would explode with pleasure as one of the most mind-blowing orgasms he had ever experienced, ripped through his entire being; screaming, “I love you Justin!” as he came hard and fast into Justin’s willing mouth.

 

Brian woke up, looking around Justin’s room; relieved when he discovered he was still the only one there; aside from a peacefully sleeping Justin.

‘Wow, that was some fucking dream! Shit, check out the smile on Sunshine’s face, maybe he’s having the same dream!’

Brian carried out his now nightly routine; looking at Justin’s chart to see when the last rounds were done, then checking on the guard at the door, then going down to ICU to spend time with his son. This had been his routine for the last 4 days.

He’d got to know the guards on the door and the nurses who had attended to the two loves of his life.

He had answered the detectives’ questions without being too sarcastic about their abilities.

He’d sat through Justin’s multiple operations and was looking forward to bringing him home. He was worried that Justin was too vulnerable in the hospital. The police had already told him that when they thought the imminent threat had disappeared they would take away the police guard.

The detectives had also informed him, Brian still did not know how he had kept civil to these bumbling fuckwits, that they had no leads at the moment. There were no witnesses to either attack and there were few clues left at either scene. The paint that was left on Brian’s car was commonly used by many of the popular brands of cars, the only identifying factor was that it came from a silver car.

Brian settled back into his customary place at Justin’s side, stroking his hand.  
He noticed that Justin had more colour in his face now.

He no longer looked as if he was at death’s door, but the contraption attached to his leg looked like something from a medieval torture chamber.

Brian speculated that fucking Justin once he was recovered would be quite a challenge, but he was never one to back away from a challenge.

Eventually Brian’s head began to droop.

He drifted off to sleep.

‘Fuck here comes that incredible dream again. God, this time it’s a hand job. Fucking amazing. Only you Justin!’

“Justin, what the fuck are you doing?”

Justin grinned up at Brian as he busily completed the ‘project’!

Brian convulsed in the chair at the side of Justin’s bed.

“Fuck, that was hot! How are we gonna explain the cum stains on the bedspread?”

Justin licked his fingers in answer.

Brian gave Justin his best lopsided grin and planted a passionate kiss on his mouth. He was still wary of hurting the blond, but Justin soon responded with such fervor that those thoughts were driven out of Brian’s head.

Both men were panting by the time the kiss was finished.

“Wish I could return the favour!” Brian whispered ruefully.

“Wait till we get home and there’s no risk of unwanted interruptions.” Justin smirked in reply. “How’s Gus?”

“No change,” Brian tried hard to keep the pain and despair from his voice, but he knew he couldn’t fool Justin.

Justin silently grasped his hand, trying to convey his sympathy through silence, knowing instinctively that Brian would reject any other sign of pity.

Brian and Justin valued these times together, as Justin was still heavily sedated, occasionally amusing Brian with descriptions of his latest hallucinations. 

Brian’s favourite one was when Justin thought he saw Michael, Ted and Emmet perched on the curtain rail around his bed; Michael in black, Ted in brown and Emmet in bright pink.

 

“Brian, Brian!”

Dr Reid shook Brian’s shoulder.

Brian sat up groggily.

‘The nurses were correct,’ the idle thought came unbidden to the doctor’s mind, ‘they do manage to look cute and hot at the same time. Not that I’d ever tell Brian that!’

“I’ve just come from the ICU, there seems to be some anomalies in the signals coming from Gus’ brain and heart monitors, the signs indicate he may be settling into a more normal sleeping pattern. We think he may be coming out of the coma. I don’t want you to get your hopes up too much, even if he does emerge from this we have no idea what state he will be in. However I thought you’d like to know of the change.”

“I knew it! I knew he’d be ok. You can’t keep Brian’s son down!” 

Justin’s jubilant cry startled both the doctor and Brian.

“Well I’m not sure about that, but I have to go see him. Ok with you Sunshine?”

“Yeah, give him my love. Nurse Jane said that she would wheel me down as soon as he is in pediatrics. There isn’t enough room for me and my robot leg in ICU.”

Justin’s sunny smile only just masked the frustration and pain bubbling just below the surface.

Brian almost ran down the corridor to his son. He fought the temptation to feel overly hopeful, trying hard to remain calm. However he couldn’t fight the intuitive feeling that told him his son was really waking up.

The minute he walked into the ICU, he heard the weak tears and cries of his son.

He raced to the baby’s side.

“We’ve just taken the tube out. He’s going to be a bit uncomfortable for a little while, but the crying is really a good sign.” the softly spoken words of the nurse only just penetrated the flood of emotions rioting through Brian’s brain.

He managed a crooked smile, licking his lips with anticipation as he wordlessly asked if he could pick up his son.

“We’ll have to let the doctor check him out first, but you are welcome to stay with him for a while.”

Again Brian nodded, stroking his son and reducing Gus’ distress with his gentle movement.

“I just have to ring his mother and let her know.”

The reluctance in Brian’s steps as he walked to the exit was obvious, almost as if he expected Gus to fall back into the coma if he wasn’t there to keep him conscious.

Lindsay was ecstatic on the phone.

“That’s wonderful Brian! I’ll be right over; I just have to finish up at the gallery. Oh Michael told me to ask you if you needed more clothes from the loft?”

“Yeah that would be good. Tell him I’ll meet him in the car park, I know he hates being in the waiting room, he kept complaining about the smell last time and he’s not allowed in to see Justin as it’s still family only.”

 

Brian couldn’t resist giving an answering smile to Lindsay’s beaming smile; her first since the crash.

“Michael is out in the car park, he said to bring Justin and your laundry down and he has your clean clothes.”

“Great! Gives me a chance to have a smoke as well!” he grinned at the disapproving look from the nurse.

 

Brian raced down to the car park, elated from the improvement in Gus, the thought of finally getting a smoke and seeing his best friend.

He pulled up with a start when he saw the crumpled front of Michael’s car.

“What the fuck happened Mikey? Why didn’t you tell me you’d been in an accident?”

“Well you had enough to deal with remember? It was when I was trying to change that tyre I was telling you about; some arsehole backed into me. I could have been killed!”


	8. Killer Instinct

As Brian backed out of the park he saw a flash of silver in the corner of is eye; without conscious thought he immediately took in the danger. The car was heading straight for the rear of their vehicle.

He slammed the car into drive, swung the wheel, threw his arm protectively across Justin and narrowly missing another parked car; drove around the driveway the wrong way, emerging just in time to see the rear of a silver car speeding off into the distance.

He swore hard, fast and with much variety, fighting the strong urge to chase after the prick, who’d made their lives so miserable and made him feel so fucking helpless and vulnerable.

Brian pulled off onto the side of the road. He looked over at Justin, face drained of all colour and struggling to keep himself upright in his seat.

“Justin?”

Justin threw open the door and vomited over into the gutter.

Brian held him tightly, supporting his partner with all his strength, being careful to keep the injured leg from moving too much as the convulsive heaving contorted Justin’s body.

“Just breathe Justin!” Brian whispered into his ear.

Brian held Justin’s head, smoothing back his hair trying to imbue the young man with peace and strength.

‘Maybe I should take you back inside the hospital.”

Justin jumped and again Brian was concerned for his leg.

“Fuck no! Brian I couldn’t stand one more day in there!” Justin croaked.

Brian looked into the wild almost panicky eyes.

“Okay, okay, then we’ll drive to the loft, call the doctor and the police.”

He saw immediately that Justin was about to protest but decided to get in first, “This is not negotiable, Justin. Sometimes a man needs to learn when it is time to accept help.”

Justin sagged back into the seat, “Ok!”

The whisper was only just audible.

 

Once the circus of doctor, friends and detectives had left Brian breathed a sigh of relief and locked the loft door.

He moved the wheelchair out of the way and made his way over to where Justin was lying exhausted on the couch.

He knelt beside the couch nuzzling Justin gently. 

Justin turned his head to the side and smiled at his lover.

“Hey my knight in leather armour! Are you gonna take me to bed and fuck me now?”

Brian looked appraisingly at his beautiful partner and firmly told his twitching dick to behave itself.

“I think we’d better just get you settled into bed, I’m on the fold up bed next to it.”

He picked up Justin, who immediately put his head on his shoulder and looked up adoringly at Brian. He fluttered his eyelids invitingly.

Brian laughed, “Your doctor would have a fit!”

“Fuck my doctor! I want you now!”

He reached up and dragged Brian’s mouth down to his for a bone-dissolving kiss.

Brian reluctantly disengaged himself from Justin’s demanding lips.

“I don’t think his wife would like that. What fucking drugs did he give you, and were there any for me?”

Justin just smiled, “There were some white ones, pink ones and a blue one. They were pretty, pretty, but not as pretty as you!”

Brian raised one eyebrow and gently placed Justin into the middle of the bed, hooking the frame supporting his leg onto the scaffolding he had organized to be erected over the bed.

He recalled the doctor’s instructions as he went to pick Justin up from the hospital.

“I know you Brian and I know Justin, so I’m going to say this straight up,” he laughed as Brian grimaced at his phrasing, “No fucking! You risk him being crippled for life. His leg needed a lot of work and it needs time to heal. There is still considerable risk of him losing the full use of his leg.”

Brian could sense Justin becoming more relaxed the minute he hit the bed. 

He scooted up to the head of the bed, placing his arm around Justin’s shoulders, feeling Justin snuggling into his chest and slowly drifting off to sleep.

He kept telling himself he needed to go to his own bed.

He told himself to move; right up to the minute he fell asleep, with Justin safely wrapped in his arms.


	9. Killer Instinct

“So you’ll have the results of the investigation to me within the next 24 hours.” Brian was speaking softly but firmly to the Private Investigator on the other end of the phone.

He occasionally glanced over to the sleeping Justin over on the bed.

It was the most relaxed he had seen the young man since the crash.

“Yes of course I informed the police after the latest attack! Those fuckers couldn’t find their arses with both hands and a guide dog!”

“I want results fast and I want reliable information.”

“No, what I do with the information is at my discretion. I’ll decide if any or all needs to go to the police.”

“Fine, I’ll put the initial deposit into your account and pay the rest when the investigation is finished.”

“Yes of course I give you permission to employ extra personnel, I told you whatever it takes, I am going to make sure my son and my lover are safe.”

Steel was threaded through his tone of voice, as Brian spoke giving orders and refining ideas with the PI till he was satisfied with the result.

If he could just keep Justin and Gus safe for the next couple of days he would make sure they would stay that way for the rest of their lives.

‘No fucker messes with those I love!’

 

The silver car pulled into the Crash repairers.

Another minor bingle I see sir.

“Yes, I overshot a corner,” (after I nearly got that little bastard and his guardian angel! Those two must have charmed lives!)

“I need the car for tomorrow, it has to be as good as new. Nothing can show it has been involved in a minor accident.” 

The voice had almost a hint of gentility about it, perhaps a WASP or WASP background.

The mechanic smiled, “Don’t want the wife to find out, eh?”

The return smile was forced and did not reach the eyes at all.

“Exactly!”

 

Brian was the first to wake.

He smiled softly as he ran his lips through Justin’s silky hair; nuzzling gently so he did not waken the sleeping beauty.

He slowly lifted his wrist to see the time, the nurse, who also just happened to be a qualified body guard was due at 8.30.

It was only 6.30 so he had at least an hour to luxuriate with the feeling of Justin in his arms once more.

He’d fix breakfast for them both first then he’d call into the hospital to check on Sonnyboy.

He was almost looking forward to the neurological tests, every day Gus seemed to be getting better, the quizzical look had almost disappeared from his bright little eyes to be replaced by that effervescent curiousity he knew and loved.

He could spend an hour with his son and then go in to the office.

He would go over the presentations with Ted and Cynthia and do some more work with the art department.

He was pleased with the way those two were coming along.

Their confidence was growing and this in turn was being reflected by the increase in the number of accounts they were landing each week.

It would soon be time for expansion, but that was a bit further down the track yet.

He felt Justin stirring in his arms, snuggling into Brian’s chest.

Brian rested his chin on the top of Justin’s head, turning his head and gently rubbing his cheek across Justin’s hair. His heart ached when he looked at the almost obscene contraption that held Justin’s leg secure.

Again his thought turned to the coming day.

He knew the PI he employed would report today.

He knew today he would find out who the bastard was who tried to murder his reason for living.  
He also knew he would have no compunction killing anyone who threatened his loves and this monster had done a lot more than just threaten.

More importantly he knew he could never tell Justin how he felt, or what he’d done. 

He remembered Justin reluctantly recalling his confrontation with Chris Hobbes, how he suddenly felt sick at his enemies’ total humiliation.

He also remembered how Justin had told him he’d felt diminished as a human being, how the wonderful feeling of power and revenge suddenly turned to bitter ashes in his mouth.

It would be the last straw for their relationship. Justin might understand but he would never feel the same about Brian.

He felt movement under his chin.

Justin reached up his hand and stroked Brian’s cheek, pulling him down for a sweet kiss, neither wanted to stop.

He leaned into Brian’s shoulder, “Aren’t you uncomfortable?”

“What sitting up in our bed with your enormous bulk pressing in to me? Nah, never!”

“Are you saying I’ve put on weight?”

“Well, you were pretty still in that hospital, yeah, I’d say you put on a few pounds.”

Brian’s tongue was firmly in his cheek.

Justin twisted around in his grip, moving his hand up Brian’s side and lifting his face as if to resume the kiss; then ducking his hand up under Brian’s armpit and tickling him without mercy.

“Justin, stop! Justin!” Brian’s squeak did not move Justin.

Brian struggled to keep from pulling on Justin and at the same time somehow escape the torture he was currently enduring.

In one swift movement he pulled himself out from under Justin, still making sure that his lover, was supported by both the mattress and the pillow.

Brian instinctively knew the best way to avoid the onslaught and pinned Justin’s arms down while nipping and nibbling at his lush lips, already flushed with laughter, now becoming swollen and flushed with desire.

Justin followed Brian up until restrained by the apparatus attached to his leg.

“Uh uh, breakfast first. Your nurse should show up soon, later!”

Justin marveled how Brian could manage to promise him the erotic experience of a lifetime with just the lift of an eyebrow.

He watched as the older man made his way, to the kitchen, ensuring Justin got the best view of his backside as he went.

“Torturer!”

Justin’s plaintive cry cause Brian to look back over his shoulder at the luscious body lying on the bed, “You can talk, he smirked.”

 

 

“What the fuck do you mean there are four possible suspects! I hired you to find the one, not four fucking possibles!”

The Private Eye felt like some specimen under a microscope, pinned to his seat by Brian’s forceful gaze.

“We can keep investigating, but there seems to be as much evidence for one as for the others. None of the four can effectively account for their whereabouts and all seem to have some motive and have previously displayed some form of animosity towards Mr Taylor.”

“So how the fuck do I protect him from threats from four people?”

Brian buried his head in his hands while the PI looked on helplessly.


	10. Killer Instinct

Brian looked at the names in front of him in disbelief.

Chris Hobbes: drives a silver car, has had ample opportunity to work out Justin’s usual routine. He still displays animosity towards Justin and has been overheard on the PIFA building site making threatening remarks and swearing vengeance.

Craig Taylor: drives a silver car, refuses to acknowledge the existence of his son. Has been overheard stating that it would be better if Justin had never been born and that the guy with the bat should have aimed better.

Cody : last name unknown, has access to current boyfriend’s silver car, has been overheard swearing revenge on Justin for an incident in which Justin ‘let down Cody and every gay man’. He is very unstable and tends to violence, known to have access to many different weapons.

Michael Novotny: Access to silver car, owned by late uncle’s boyfriend. Has frequently shown jealous attitudes to Justin. Has been overheard stating that Brian would be better off without the twink, and maybe he should do something about it. Has also been overheard stating that he would never forgive Justin for hurting Brian when he went off with the ‘fiddler’ and that Justin was too unreliable for Brian.

 

Brian felt sick to his stomach reading the reports.

How was he to keep Justin safe?

He fought the urge to return to the loft immediately and stand guard himself.

‘Get a fucking grip Kinney. The nurse was highly recommended and said that he would ring straight away if anything unusual occurred. Maybe I could just ring home though and see how Justin is doing?’

Brian raced through the ideas he had for his new clients, setting them up for the Art Department to finish for his approval.

He made some notes for Cynthia and Ted for their presentations, pleased that he seemed to be able to make less detailed notes lately, as the pair were both proving more and more capable of taking on his role in the business.

He sat at his desk for a few minutes lost in thought.

‘It’s not that I don’t trust the PI to do the job I’m paying for, it’s just that I have to find out for myself.’

Brian pulled the files towards himself once more, determined to work out who he thought might be the murdering bastard.

He started to make notes in the margins of each file and on his computer.

 

When Brian let himself into the loft and checked in with the nurse/bodyguard, he hurried over to Justin’s side.

Justin had managed to set up his sketchbook propping it up against his support so that it was holding up the book.

Justin looked up at Brian, reaching up to pull him down into a searing kiss.

Brian responded immediately, placing his hands behind Justin’s head and pulling him in to deepen the kiss even more.

“Miss me?” he smirked tongue firmly in his cheek.

“Well no, not really, didn’t you see how hot the nurse was? Gives a great blow job too!” Justin’s eyes were twinkling with mischief as he indulged himself in one of his favourite pastimes, Brian baiting.

Brian recalled the hook-nose, beetled brow and the strange way you felt as if the nurse never quite looked you in the eye. Of course he was built like a brick shit house but on reflection the only way anyone would ever want to actually fuck the guy would be to put a paper bag over his head.

Justin knew the game was up when he saw the upraised eyebrow.

“Yeah he wasn’t bad at blow jobs but fucking him in the lift was even better!”

“It would have had to have been fucking quick, or quick fucking, you were only gone five minutes!” Justin was smiling as he started to kiss each of the fingers that just happened to be near his mouth.

“Practice makes perfect!”

“I thought you were already perfect.”

“You ought to know Sunshine.”

‘That bloody smirk is going to be the death of me!’

Justin again reached up to pull Brian down for yet another mind-blowing kiss.

Brian pushed his hands up under Justin’s tee-shirt, lightly teasing his nipples until they became hard and Justin started to moan.

As Justin started to become more aroused with the kiss he started to thrust his hips forward.

Brian placed his hands on Justin’s hips holding him firmly in place, “Uh uh Sunshine, no jerky movements, nothing that might damage the leg.”

He started licking his way down Justin’s body; reaching up to pull Justin’s tee-shirt up over his head.

Brian paid particular attention to Justin navel, sucking and licking, nipping and nibbling, mimicking the actions he fully intended to act out on Justin’s cock.

“Brian!” Justin’s wail filled the loft.

Brian smirked to himself, he loved it when he made Justin lose control and call his name.

He continued his way down, Justin’s body; by now Justin was totally incoherent threading his hands into Brian’s hair.

Brian kept his hands firmly on Justin’s hips refusing to let him budge an inch.

He slowly, Justin thought excruciatingly slowly; licked around Justin’s cock.

Brian swirled the head around his tongue, diving down to engulf the whole prick with his mouth and throat.

Again he held Justin firmly in place as the younger man tried to launch himself off the bed in ecstasy.

Using his thumbs to continue to hold Justin he soon got busy kneading Justin’s arse with his long supple fingers, stretching as close to Justin’s hole as he could.

Justin was almost incoherent with excitement.

The pounding on the door, forced Brian to look up at Justin.

“Fuck, we’ll ignore them, they’ll go away!”

Justin pulled Brian up for another kiss, shaking his head.

 

“Come on Brian we know you’re in there, arsehole. Open the fucking door!” Deb’s strident voice carried through the steel door as if it was cheesecloth.

“Shit, we know Deb will never go away!” Brian covered Justin back up with the duvet, but shoved the tee-shirt under the pillow.

He kissed Justin tenderly on the nose, resting his forehead against the blond’s for a couple a seconds, before sighing, “Later,” and making his way to the door.

“Hey Deb, Mikey, what brings you here?”

Deb clipped Brian over the head, “Arsehole, why didn’t you ring and tell us Justin was at home? We just went to the hospital. They told us you’d signed him out. We called in home and picked up some food and came straight here. I wanna make sure you are looking after our Sunshine properly.”

Justin went to sit up and winced as the pain hit, quickly covering up the feelings with his trademark sunshine smile.

“Hey Deb, Michael!” Justin tried to deflect Deb’s wrath from Brian by bringing attention to himself.

Deb placed the numerous containers on the counter and rushed to Justin’s side.

“Sunshine! I’m so glad to see you, I was so worried. How are you? Is Brian looking after you? Are you all right? Are you in any pain? Are you too hot? Are you too cold? Are you comfortable?”

Deb threw her arms around Justin.

Brian noticed the twinge as the leg was moved and went to intervene at once, only backing off when Justin shook his head slightly.

“I’m fine, just a bit sore. Brian is spoiling me rotten, even hired a fucking ugly nurse. I’m very comfortable. Great to see you too Deb.”

Michael was busy looking at the floor beside the bed. He’d nodded briefly to Justin after giving Brian a big hug as soon as he walked through the door.

“You’re sleeping on the fucking floor? While he sleeps in the bed!” Michael’s voice rose an octave in outrage.

“Oh, well isn’t that sweet, I never would have believed it!” Deb’s voice marveled at the gesture.

“Well,” Brian smirked, “I haven’t exactly used it yet.”

“What! You bastard, have you gone out tricking already? Surely you haven’t been fucking Justin, remember what the doctor said.”

“Deb, Deb, calm the fuck down; you’ll have a bloody coronary. I told you before, what I do and who I do it with is nobody’s business but Justin and mine. What the fuck ever happened to patient confidentiality?”

Michael looked over at Justin triumphantly, absolutely convinced that Brian had been out fucking, certainly not sleeping with Justin cradled in his arms.

He leaned over Brian’s shoulder; whispering into his ear, “I’m glad you didn’t let the little shit put a crimp in your social schedule.”

Brian looked in disbelief at Michael’s leering face.

He had to physically stop himself smashing Michael in the face, holding his hands tightly together to stop forming a fist; knowing that if he landed one blow he would not be able to stop.

‘It couldn’t be his best friend, no fucking way. Mikey would never do that!’

“I think it’s time you left,” Brian struggled to keep his tone even, “Justin needs his rest.”

As Michael went to give him a farewell hug, Brian stepped back toward the bed, turning to Justin.

Michael looked startled and confused at Brian’s obvious rejection.

“Ok, come on ma, we’d better let Boy Wonder get his beauty sleep. See you at Babylon later Bri?”

Michael’s sarcastic, mean tone worked on Brian’s nerves like fingernails running down a chalkboard.

Brian just shook his head, his eyes never leaving Justin’s.

He failed to see the vicious, malevolent gaze Michael threw at Justin as he left.


	11. Killer Instinct

Justin passed the boring days alternately tormenting his nurse, doing his physio and sketching.

He had discovered very quickly that his bullish nurse was both straight and humourless.

He took great delight in being ever more outrageous, seeking some type of reaction from the almost taciturn man, even if it was a negative one.

His latest trick was to demand the man go out and get him food.

Of course he knew he could have ordered in but the frustration caused by his enforced helplessness, encouraged him to use what little power he believed he possessed.

“I am not supposed to leave you alone Mr Taylor.”

Justin sensed capitulation in the quiet tone.

“But I want chocolate mint chip cookie dough ice cream, I’ll exercise twice as hard, you only have to go down the street, it’s just down the road.”

Justin could almost hear Brian’s voice accusing him of behaving like a spoilt twat.

He grinned to himself as he thought of the novel ways Brian had of keeping him amused.

“Please,” Justin pouted, his bottom lip quivering.

“Well it’s not as if you can get into any trouble while I am away. Promise you won’t let anyone in?”

“How the fuck could I do that? Anyway who do you think I am, Snow white? I don’t think there is a wicked witch waiting outside the loft with a poisoned apple.”

The nurse sighed, knowing Justin would not give up until he got his way.

“Mr Kinney will kill me for this, if he ever finds out.” He shut the door ensuring he locked it securely and turned the security system on.

 

 

Justin drifted off to sleep, no longer kept awake by having to nag at his ‘prison guard’ as he thought of him.

 

“Hello is there anyone there?” Justin voice sounded a bit quavery and was still thick with sleep.

He tried to pull himself up on the triangle over the bed; struggling to catch a glimpse of the door.

“David are you there?”

‘Nurse Cratchet, back so soon?’

He grinned to himself at the thought, shrugging as he realized the nurse would probably not get the reference.

He was sure he felt a breeze as if someone had opened the loft door.

“Christ Taylor,” he murmured to himself, “What a fucking wuss! Now you’re jumping at shadows.”

He considered briefly using his cell phone to ring Brian, just to hear his voice; then thought better of it, remembering that Brian had planned to clear his desk of work so he and Justin could have four uninterrupted days together.

He had even mentioned a plan to bring Gus to the loft, now that he’d been released from hospital.

 

Justin jumped when he heard the clink of glasses.

“Ok this is ridiculous,” he could see the loft door clearly closed, “you are so letting your imagination run away with you, get a grip!”

He picked up his sketchbook, working on his current sketch of Brian and Gus.

Justin’s head began to nod and not wanting to harm the sketch he placed it carefully next to the glass of water on the bedside table and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

A short while later, Justin awoke feeling hot and thirsty, ‘I must remind Brian to turn the heat down a bit,’ he thought to himself absently.

He reached for the glass handy and finished the water in three large gulps.

 

Brian was feeling the happiest he had since the first attack.

Gus had been given the all clear and was making a remarkable recovery.

There had been no further attacks.

Best of all he had ensured he and Justin had four whole days to themselves, he’d arranged to pick Gus up from Lindsay at her new apartment.

He emerged from the lift a grin fixed on his face, maybe he could even get rid of that joyless nurse for a while, Justin continually bitched about him and Brian was sure he could look after Justin by himself.

He looked towards the loft door, the grin sliding from his face as he saw Michael standing outside.

“Mikey?” the soft query seemed to wake Michael from some kind of nightmare.

He stared at Brian for a few seconds, “I didn’t, I . . .sorry.”

Michael broke into a run, racing down the stairs.

Brian went to follow his friend, then turned and entered the apartment.

Justin lay on the bed, obviously unconscious, surrounded by his own vomit.


	12. Killer Instinct

Brian stared into space the tracks of the tears already drying on his cheeks.

He’d sent all the gang home.

He felt like his whole world was collapsing.

He held Justin’s hand, as if that was the only thing keeping him from collapsing and flying into a million pieces.

He’d been told Justin had been lucky that the damage hadn’t been worse.

The tox screen had shown that among the other chemicals found in the glass was codeine.

The strange thing was that it was the presence of codeine which had saved him, as he was violently ill immediately after he ingested the contaminated water and expelled most of the rest of the poisons contained in the glass of water.

Brian had to restrain himself from strangling the doctor when he heard the word ‘lucky’.

He found himself breathing along with Justin.

He replayed the anxious hours while Justin was once again in the operating theatre.

The violence of the paroxysm had affected the leg and some of the other injuries to his torso had also been damaged.

 

Brian didn’t know how much more Justin could take; he didn’t know how much more he could take.

He resolved once Justin was well enough to come home he would take him away somewhere safe.

He also resolved that he would find this bastard that threatened his love.

He drifted off to sleep, not even using the bed that had been placed in the room for that purpose.

There was no way he was ever letting go of Justin’s hand again.

 

He didn’t even wake as the nurses came past the guards at the door and did their observations on their patient.

 

Justin moved and Brian’s eyes flew open.

He anxiously examined the younger man’s face, he looked like he was in pain or dreaming, Brian gently stroked Justin’s hand, running the other hand over the furrowed brow, softly pushing the hair away from his eyes.

He felt Justin relax and moved a little himself to try to change position, still not releasing Justin’s hand. 

 

As the hours past, Brian came to more firm decisions, as well as getting Justin to safety he would again call on the Private Investigator he had employed and get a check on the whereabouts of all the suspects.

He would also see if Horvath knew anything or could find out any information.

He turned his mind to the person he least wanted to think about, Mikey.

There was just no way it could have been Mikey. OK so he knew the code and he had the keys, but he knew Mike would never do that.

He thought back to some of the looks Michael used to give Justin. The snide remarks he would make at every opportunity. The way he used to undermine the relationship Justin and he had worked hard to establish and yet still keep their own personalities and dignity.

He shook his head, but to go this far? Brian understood Michael would much rather Justin did not exist, but he could not believe that Michael would go to such lengths to be rid of Justin, he just would not resort to violence. Michael went to extreme measures to avoid violence, Brian thought back to episodes at school when Mike would cave at even the threat of violence. There had been numerous times when Brian had to intervene to protect Michael.

He used to try to get Michael to stand up for himself. Hell, he even tried to teach him some basic techniques in self-defence. He’d had to stop that when Michael seemed to think it was more of an excuse for a grope session than necessary for his protection. 

‘Yeah, but’ Brian was unable to silence the tiny voice that kept loading on the doubts, ‘none of the attacks involved open violence, at least not violence that meant you had to confront your victim. If Michael was going to do anything like this; using a car or poison would surely be the way he would choose.’

‘But how did he know about Justin’s allergy to codeine? He recalled a conversation that they’d had about Justin when he first came to the loft how he yammered on about illegal drugs.’

“Oh shit I told him about him saying he was allergic to Tylenol and codeine. We fucking laughed about it.”

‘But who else could know? That is the big question. Obviously Craig would know, but how in Hell would he have access to the loft? Had Justin ever given him a key, unlikely to say the least.’

Brian smirked to himself as he imagined the scene, Justin smiling up at his dad saying cheerily, “Oh by the way dad here’s the key to my lover’s apartment. You remember him don’t you? He’s the guy you accused of being a paedophile who seduced and abused me.”

“Had that punk Cody ever been to the apartment?” Brian was certain that Cody would have jumped at the chance of getting into Justin’s pants, but he was equally sure that Justin had never given him the chance.

“What about that prick Hobbes? I can’t believe he’s working at PIFA. Did Justin know? Did he confront him again? Too many fucking questions, not enough answers.”

“Bri?”

Justin’s voice sounded weak.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Brian laughed, tears of joy streamed down his face, “Nothing that needs to concern you, silly twat!”

He couldn’t resist bending over the bed and catching Justin’s bottom lip with his, tracing his tongue along it and sucking it into his mouth.

Justin returned the kiss for a moment then tried to push Brian away. 

“Yuk, my breath must be totally rank if the taste in my mouth is any indication.”

“Sweet as honey as always!” Brian declared fatuously.

“Liar!” Justin smirked back, “What the fuck am I doing back in hospital anyway?”

“I might just let the doctors tell you that. I’m just so glad you’re here, awake, horny and safe.”

“Who said I’m horny?”

“Well, the kiss for one,” Brian began to Kiss Justin, placing kisses down his throat, Justin started to writhe under Brian’s ministrations.  
“Your boner for another,” Brian dropped his hand onto Justin’s cock.

“And you are always hot for it!” 

Brian swooped down onto Justin kissing him passionately.

Justin moaned, as Brian dived beneath the bedclothes and took his cock into his mouth; holding Justin’s hips firmly in place determined not to move his leg one inch; just give him the most amazing blow job of his entire life.


	13. Killer Instinct

As the three men pulled up outside the small cabin beside the lake, they were all busy thinking their separate thoughts.

Justin couldn’t wait to get inside, his leg hurt and for the last 60 miles he’d been trying to hide the pain.

Brian couldn’t wait to get Justin inside the cabin. He knew Justin was in pain and desperately trying to hide it. The slight furrow in his brow and the tension around his mouth some of the miniscule signs that Brian had learned to read like a book.

The new nurse/bodyguard Peter, just looked around the glorious scenery in wonder.

Brian parked the wagon, and immediately carried Justin inside and placed him gently on the bed, offering him his meds and a small plastic cup of water. 

Justin looked up at his lover, hesitated for a moment, and then accepted it gratefully.

Brian strove to keep the frown from his face as he noticed the hesitation and thought of the close shave Justin had just endured.

He smoothed the hair away from Justin’s face and started to stroke his temples and across the brow as Justin began to relax and slowly drift off to sleep.

Peter had already carried all their gear into the cabin and had begun to stack the food into the cupboards and fridge.

Brian went to collect him to help him rig Justin’s leg up into the ‘medieval instrument of torture’ as Justin called it.

Brian referred to it as a 'novel type of chastity belt'.

It was easier to place Justin into the restraint and support when he was asleep or unconscious.

Brian went downstairs to check on Peter.

“I’ve checked all the locks and the security devices that are in place are all working well. This place is as safe as Fort Knox. It must have cost a fortune.”

“Well yeah, but he’s worth it. We are worth it.”

None of Brian’s friends would have believed that Brian could have looked like that. 

He had a soft smile on his face as he thought about Justin, Ted would have called it sappy, Michael would have said it wasn’t Brian, Emmett just would have smiled knowingly.

Peter took out his guns, placing them carefully on the cloth in front of him, methodically taking each one to pieces and cleaning each piece carefully.

Brian looked on in approval. He hated the need for guns and violence in general, but if that was what it took to keep Justin safe then he was willing to endure the discomfort.

Peter saw Brian looking at his activity and smiled over his shoulder.

“Can you shoot?”

“Not a gun.” Brian couldn’t resist raising one eyebrow.

Peter laughed, “I can teach you if you like, it might make you feel even more secure about Justin.”

Brian looked torn, he remembered the fear he had felt when Justin had talked about Cody having guns.

“Maybe later, just give it some thought.”

“Yeah, thanks. I think I’ll turn in. It was a long drive. Can you set up the computer?”

Brian walked slowly back up the stairs, he couldn’t help thinking about Peter’s offer, ‘Maybe it really is the answer. No fuck, that is what Peter’s job is. He is a fucking ex-marine for Christ’s sake. If he can’t protect Justin no one can. What, I think I can protect him better with a gun? I couldn’t even protect him in the fucking loft.’

Brian turned into the bedroom he and Justin would be sharing until he was absolutely cettain there was no more danger.

He winced at the thought that he did not know how soon that would be.

He was determined to find out where the threat was coming from.

He climbed carefully onto the king-sized bed, taking extreme care not to disturb Justin.

He curled up next to the sleeping beauty and gently placed his arm around him.

Justin sighed and curled his body in towards Brian wincing in his sleep as he pulled on the leg.

Brian supported him and drew him closer into his body, slowly drifting off to sleep himself; deliberately shelving all his worries so that he could be there for Justin immediately the need arose.

Peter made one final tour of the house, deliberately and precisely checking all the doors and windows, including the bathrooms; turning off the lights as he went.

His last act before settling to sleep himself was to place the screen so that he could instantly see all areas surrounding the cabin, as well as most of the inside although despite his urging Brian refused to have a camera in their bedroom; stating that if anyone was going to have videos of the great Justin and Brian Show it was going to be him.

He placed one gun on the bedside table and another next to his pillow and drifted off to sleep.

 

The figure in the trees laughed softly to himself as he watched the lights systematically extinguished.

“So Kinney, you think you have your man safe? You would have thought you would have learned by now. I can be just as determined as any fag. You need to be taught a lesson and I am the best person to so it.”

He retreated further away from the cabin setting up a small tent; crawling inside.

Once he was sheltered he set about checking his equipment; methodically setting out the picks he needed to circumvent the locks and the electrical tools he had brought to dismantle the closed circuit television he had seen installed. He checked the bugging system he had used to monitor Brian’s calls and discovered there had been no outgoing calls.

His last job was to check the weather report, grinning when he discovered that the weather was moving in and that they would probably be isolated from the outside world by snow.

He carefully set the alarm for the early hours of the morning.

“Let the fun begin!”


	14. Killer Instinct

Brian went from sound asleep to wide-awake in a matter of seconds. 

He glanced at the clock on the cupboard nearby, “Fucking 3.30 in the morning. What am I doing awake at this hour?”

He held his voice to a soft whisper determined not to disturb Justin who had managed to wrap himself around Brian despite his leg suspended in mid air.

Then he heard it, a soft almost indiscernible thud. 

Brian gently disentangled himself from Justin’s body, paying particular attention to Justin’s injuries.

He found himself unable to resist the urge to press his lips sweetly onto Justin’s inviting mouth.

Justin sighed in his sleep, his lips curving into a small smile.

Brian wanted nothing more than to press himself back up against that delightful body and drift back to sleep.

It took all his determination to swing his legs over the edge of the giant bed and place his feet onto the cold floorboards.

He switched on the small lamp on the bedside table, glancing at the window as he reached for his robe, amazed by the amount of snow that was already piling up against it.

He hoped Peter had parked the car under the shelter of the cabin as he’d asked.

He decided to just give the place a quick check.

He knew the place was impregnable, he’d employed expert security advisers and Peter came with brilliant references.

That didn’t stop him from driving himself crazy with worry.

Every time he was certain he had made Justin safe that maniac had struck seemingly at will.

Brian made his way down the stone staircase, feet freezing and brain beginning to feel the same way.

His heart sank as he saw the front door swinging open in the wind and snow already beginning to pile up still swirling in with the driving wind.

He raced over to the door heart thumping so loudly he was certain he wouldn’t be able to hear any other sounds.

He slammed the door, shooting the bolts and refastening the locks in disbelief.

“This is not possible. What the fuck is going on. Surely Peter would not leave the door open no matter what.”

Brian gazed frantically around the room, searching the walls the fire burning fitfully in the hearth and the book-lined shelves for answers.

Everything looked disturbingly normal.

He raced across the rug, enjoying for a split second the warmth of the wool contrasting the frozen soles of his feet.

He poked his head into the kitchen area, taking in the polished wooden table, chairs, countertop, cupboards and sink; all again disturbingly normal.

Lastly he raced into Peter’s room at the end of the passage.

Nothing here was normal; not the screens showing snowy white, not the empty bedside cupboard, not the blood dripping onto the pillow and certainly not the ominously still body of Peter half on the bed and half on the floor, hand beneath the bloody pillow and large bleeding gash decorating his face.

Brian thought back to his meager knowledge of first aid.

He placed his fingers gingerly against Peter’s neck, certain he could discern a faint flutter against his finger tips.

He held his cheek next to Peter’s mouth. He was sure he could feel a slight whisper of air.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

His legs felt shaky as he made his way swiftly to the bathroom, grabbed a towel and made his way back into the bedroom.

He placed the towel firmly against the head wound; hastily wrapping a second towel around it to hold it in place.

Peter did not stir.

He lifted Peter’s legs up onto the bed, moving the pillow so that it was under his head.

As the pillow moved he saw the butt of the gun sticking out.

Brian made sure Peter was as comfortable as he could; hoping desperately that the young man was going to be ok.

He resolved to come back later and check on him.

He also felt an overwhelming need to return to Justin, to convince himself that Justin was not in immediate danger.

The horrible feeling that someone had penetrated all their defences and succeeded in their attack on their own bloody bodyguard brought a sickening feeling into his gut.

He picked up the gun with the tips of his fingers.

He had never wanted to learn about guns; he’d never even thought there would ever be a place for them in his world.

He cursed that he would never have the opportunity to learn from Peter now.

He was also cursing that in his cleverness, he couldn’t help feeling bitter when he thought about that word; he had deliberately ensured that they were effectively cut off from the outside world.

There were no phones in the cabin, no one on the outside knew where they were, not even Lindsay.

His cell phone was useless totally out of range.

“Shit, fuck! We are fucking trapped here, presumably at the mercy of a man who is totally nuts and totally determined to kill Justin.”

Unable to resist the urge to return to Justin any more he flew up the stairs, the gun hanging loosely from his fingers.

Brian flung open the door, no longer concerned with Justin’s sleep; just desperate to make sure he was still alive.

Justin opened one eye, blearily trying to get this distraught, bloody image of a Brian into focus.

“Bri?” 

Brian smiled, fighting to hold back tears as he raced to Justin’s side.

“Hush, it’s ok, go back to sleep, beautiful.”

“’Kay.” Justin snuggled into Brian’s side.

Brian sat staring at the gun.

“Well it looks like I’m gonna have to learn about guns after all. Now how do I work this mother-fucker?”


	15. Killer Instinct

Brian did not have to force himself to keep his eyes open, he’d been wide awake ever since he’d first seen the front door to the cabin open.

He’d divided his time after that between checking on Peter and staying with Justin.

Each time he ventured down the stairs he’d immediately looked at the door almost as if he was expecting it to be open again.

He’d never felt this jumpy in his life.

He had to keep reminding himself to stay calm and focused knowing that giving way to the anxiety gnawing at his gut could result in catastrophe for them all.

As he sat up in the bed, with Justin snuggled awkwardly against his shivering body, he had begun to design a plan; not a foolproof plan by any means, but at least it was keeping his mind occupied.

He’d already completed the first part of this plan. 

As he went to check on Peter, who at that stage had still not regained consciousness but, he thought, seemed to be breathing a little easier, Brian went through the house turning off any inside light and turning on all the outside spotlights. 

He was now able to see all the areas around the cabin except for the carport underneath.

It felt gave him a modicum of safety in that he could now see out but whoever was out there could not see in.

Every time he went anywhere he deliberately took the gun along.

He’d spent time studying it while he sat by Justin and he thought he’d found the safety and worked out how to turn it on and off; at least he hoped he had. 

He really didn’t want to accidentally shoot himself on the foot, or anyone else currently in the house for that matter.

He wished he’s paid more attention to Peter when he was cleaning the bloody thing.

He slowly walked down the steps, feeling his way cautiously in the dark.

Maybe he should start moving like they do in the movies, for a split second he pictured himself rushing from place to place; gun held in front of him, swinging around corners, darting his head from one side to the other with one of those snappy moves.

Then he pictured Justin laughing his arse off, grimaced to himself and continued down the stairs. 

He swiftly checked the locks on the front door, breathing a sigh of relief softly as he noted they were all secure.

He moved into the kitchen and checked that door as well.

As he passed past the window he looked carefully outside, stunned to see clear tracks in the crisp snow.

“Fuck!”

He immediately ducked below the sill, slowly coming back up trying to work out what direction the tracks were heading.

“Mother fucker!” 

The tracks were going around the house.

There was no clue where they were headed.

Brian started to carry out the second part of his scheme; piling up chairs and the dining table against the door.

“Well even if he unlocks the thing I’ll hear the fucker coming.”

Feeling like he was being watched the entire time, like ice dripping down his back, “Get a fucking grip Kinnney!” Brian made his way into Peter’s room.

Peter was groaning in his sleep and Brian hoped that was a good sign. 

At least it proved he wasn’t dead.

He’d let the fire burn down, although it was freezing in the cabin, he wanted to reduce the amount of light.

He moved quietly around the room again shifting the furniture so that it was piled up against the door.

Every minute he was away from Justin increased the level of his anxiety till it was almost fever pitch.

Brian raced up the stairs to get back to Justin, he figured he’d need to put more clothes on soon or he’d start getting frostbite.

He’d made sure that Peter had the sleeping bag and extra blankets piled on him and had already piled extra bed clothes on Justin before he left.

The gun was starting to feel heavy in his hand.

The only thing keeping him on his feet was the combination of love for Justin and adrenaline.

Brian dashed through the door; the minute he’d reached the top step he’d sensed something was terribly wrong.

He held the gun in front of him; gripping firmly with his two hands, slipping the safety off like a professional.

The gun dropped to his side and his mouth dropped open as he gazed at the snow fluttering gently in through the open window.

“What the fuck do you want? You are not getting Justin!”

Brian screamed out into the frozen, silent night.

Justin tried to sit up, woken by Brian’s screaming.

“Bri? What’s wrong?”

Brian slammed the window shut, resisting the temptation to shoot wildly out into the snowy night.

“It’s ok; everything is ok. We’ve had a bit of a problem. It seems this guy just doesn’t know when to quit.”

Justin tried hard to keep the terror out of his eyes.

He gulped, trying to force enough saliva into his throat so he could ask the question he really didn’t want to hear answered, “He’s back?”

“Yeah. I won’t let him get you. I can’t let them get you.”

Brian struggled to hold back the tears only wanting to show him the determination he felt not the terror following closely behind it.

Once more he took up his position beside Justin; each man trying to draw comfort and strength from the other, both waiting for the dawn to come.


	16. Killer Instinct

As Justin and Brian struggled to stay awake and alert for any fresh attacks; their assailant had settled down to sleep in his cosy sleeping bag in his weatherproof tent.

Ensuring he set the alarm so he would be ready to attack just before sunrise.

So far his plan was working perfectly.

He painstakingly checked every tool, wire and mechanism he had incorporated into his plan.

He ticked off each part and married it to the partner, knowing that combined it would be unbelievably effective.

“If I was in a bad play at this moment I would be rubbing my hands together right now, or running my finger along my flamboyant black moustache.”

Having completed his checklist, he returned each section to its assigned area.

“Hmm if the gang could see me now they’d never believe the jock they knew could even name this stuff, let alone use it efficiently.”

“I have to get him. I have to prove I am the man.”

He thought back to the time where hands had been placed on his manhood.

Nothing had ever felt the same.

No woman ever felt the same.

Sure he’d managed to get it up.

None of the chicks had ever complained.

He’d always managed to finish, kind of.

Nothing made his breath hitch in his throat like it did that time.

Nothing had ever made the rest of the world go away like that time.

Nothing had ever continually invaded his dreams like that time.

In his head he sometimes pictured himself forcing his meat into Taylor’s mouth.

“Like the fucking little, faggot piggy he is.”

In his darkest memories he remembered the feeling of the barrel of the gun in his mouth.

He remembered the terrible smell as first his bladder cut loose and then his sphincter muscles gave way under the onslaught of the greatest fear he’d ever felt.

He’d thrown every piece of clothing out he wore on that night into the rubbish skip, after he had finally managed to force his shaking legs to hold him upright and staggered back into his home.

His home had never felt the same either.

Taylor had changed that forever too.

Every time he pulled his SUV into the drive he had to physically prevent himself from checking behind every tree and shrub in case there was some diseased faggot there with a fucking gun.

After he had finished chucking in the toilet, cleaned himself up and convinced himself he was indeed still alive; he vowed he would make Taylor pay.

First he would have his fun, and then he would make that faggot pay.

He knew his enemy would be working their nerves to a frazzle waiting for the next attack.

He would be able to catch them at their most vulnerable.

This time there would be no mistakes.

This time there would be an end.

This time Justin fucking Taylor would die and if that broke Kinney up so much that he was destroyed too, that was an added benefit.

His chuckle had a slightly maniacal sound to it.

He felt relaxed for the first time since he first decided to rid the world of it’s disease.

 

Brian felt Justin’s head nodding against him and the reflexive jerk as he tried to wake himself up.

“Justin.” Brian worked to keep his voice soft, calm and even.

“Mhm?” Justin’s sleepy reply brought an instant smile to Brian’s worried face.

He never could get over how much Justin sounded like a sleepy child when he was half asleep.

Gone was the ‘smart-as-a-whip’ wise-arse loving partner and in its place was this pliable, cute little boy.

Brian drew closer to him, gently placing his arm around his shoulders and placing his head delicately onto the crown of Justin’s head.

He couldn’t resist the temptation to softly rub his cheek against Justin’s hair drinking in the scent of his shampoo and the essential essence of Justin that always made his blood race.

“There’s no need for both of us to stay awake.”

Brian thought he was being ultra-tactful in not mentioning that Justin would not be much help if anything happened even if he was awake.

So he was really startled when he heard the barely suppressed sob coming from under his arm.

“What? What’s wrong?”

‘Apart from being stalked by a madman who is determined to kill you that is!’

“Y-you think I’m useless. This is all my fault!”

Brian was glad Justin couldn’t see him roll his eyes at that statement.

Justin sniffed, “And don’t think just because I can’t see your face I don’t know that you are rolling your eyes at me!”

“Twat!”

Justin grinned at the frustrated exclamation.

Brian never ceased to be amazed at how well his lover could read him like a book, despite being in extremis.

“Justin I don’t think you are useless, but what are you planning to do if someone does come through that window? Stare them to death?”

“I could be a diversion while you jump him.”

“By what? Yodelling at him? Sketching him? Or the dreaded poking out your tongue method?”

“I could throw my sketching pencil at him, pierce him through the eye and into the brain and kill the bastard!”

By now despite everything that had happened in the last 24 hours or maybe even because of it the boys burst into paroxysms of laughter.

“Fuck, Justin we’re supposed to be serious; you’ll be the death of me.”

Justin’s laughter stopped in an instant, as if a tap were suddenly turned off.

“Brian don’t say that!”

“Sorry, look the sun is nearly ready to some up.”

Brian pointed to the window where the first few pallid pink rays of the sun were just starting to lighten the night sky.


	17. Killer Instinct

As the rosy glow at the window began to pale and the sky started to lighten, Brian despite his best intentions drifted off to sleep.

Justin continued to chat for a few more minutes before he discovered that Brian was not just being his usual uncommunicative self but was actually fast asleep. It was probably the soft squeaky snoring that alerted him to this fact.

He snuggled further into Brian’s shoulder; feeling he probably should be grateful for the fact that Brian had been so busy with the intruder and looking after the body guard that he had not thought to give Justin his pain medication.

Justin was pretty sure that the excruciating agony caused by the slightest movement such as breathing, or moving at all really would be an efficient means of keeping himself awake.

As he listened to the silence broken only by the soft noise of the digital clock; he felt the tension in his body increase with every passing second. 

In trying to hear every small sound he started to hear sounds that weren’t really there at all.

He was almost tempted to wake Brian as his terror increased with every waking moment.

“I could really use some of Ben’s Zen thoughts here,” Justin whispered.

Brian moved slightly unconsciously drawing Justin in closer.

“MMMghfff. Or my partner could pull me slightly away from that God-awful metal frame and send lightning bolts of pain shooting through my system and take my mind off the mind-freezing terror I was previously feeling.

“I reckon I just might do some painting in my head, that should work to keep my mind occupied and not allow me to drift off to sleep.” 

Justin had started to softly talk to himself as another ploy to keep himself from cozying up to Brian and sleeping.

“I could paint Brian asleep. Although I’ve done that so many times; he might get the idea that I find him interesting as a subject, that might give him an even bigger head, can’t have that now can we? I can think of other things. What about Brian in the shower, now there’s a thought, hmm, naked Brian? Ok that was so not meant to happen. Fuck just what I need, a woody when I’m supposed to be Mr Vigilant.”

Justin spent some time trying to imagine scenarios to make his erection disappear.

The thought of two lesbians getting hot and heavy seemed to work quite well.

“What about Brian as a James Bond type character? The way he carried that gun was pretty hot. Yeah. . .”

Justin drifted off thinking about how he could best depict Brian as some sort of hot secret agent, maybe a bit like Matt Damon in The Bourne Conspiracy.

 

Chris was painstakingly placing the detonators and plastic explosive under the vehicle parked under the cabin.

He had been assured that even under the most severe conditions the remote control would work and the resulting explosion would accomplish his goal.

He went back over the plans in his head for what seemed like the millionth time. 

From the moment he decided to kill Justin, which was just after he’d cleaned himself up after his humiliation; he had meticulously planned to execute the perfect plan for revenge.

He had left nothing to chance, even employing his own private eye to monitor Taylor and Kinney’s conversations.

He had been mildly amused when the PI had told him that Kinney had employed a PI to investigate him.

He had contacted a security firm to find out the latest ideas in surveillance and the types of devices, which could be used to improve a property’s safety measures, and more importantly how these measures were often counteracted. 

He never ceased to be amazed at how his position as site manager and construction engineer seemed to make other professions think he was completely trustworthy.

It had been an added bonus to discover that one of the men who had worked on the Kinney residence and was currently working with him on the PIFA site was a fellow homophobe, who considered it his duty to the rest of the world to give Chris a copy of the key and the security code for the door, to help him, “teach those ‘Dirty bastards a lesson they’ll never forget.”

He had spent many hours working out exactly how much plastic explosive he would need, before he could start a minor inferno.

He needed a fire that would force Kinney and Taylor to flee the house.

Then as they staggered out the front door he could pick them off one by one.

He cradled his gun to his chest.

He probably should have shot the body guard, not just hit him with the barrel of the gun.

It would have been so much neater.

 

“Bri, Brian, I think I heard something.”

Justin’s voice sounded soft and hesitant.

It barely penetrated Brian’s almost comatose state.

“Brian,” Justin twisted in Brian’s arms, and then waited for the pain to abate before he attempted to shake his partner awake.

“What the fuck?”

Brian jumped up off the bed holding the gun in front of him.

Justin couldn’t prevent the groan and sharp, sudden intake of breath as his poor abused body was jostled once more.

“Sorry Jus,” Brian looked devastated that he’d harmed Justin.

They both heard the sound of a car door slamming simultaneously.

Their eyes met in a mutual moment of confusion.

Brian started to race for the stairs, only to be thrown back into the bedroom with the force of the explosion.

Flames were already starting to lick their way up the staircase.

Brian raced back to Justin, shock plastered across his face.

“Are you all right, Sunshine?”

“Yeah,” Justin was watching smoke starting to flow into the room with growing terror, straining to keep from panicking, “Brian we have to get out of here.”

Brian ran back to the top of the steps, trying to work out if it was safe to use them.

He immediately saw that the furniture below had already caught fire.

His heart plummeted as he also saw the furniture piled against the front door.

“Fucking brilliant Kinney, you successfully blocked the fucking exit!”

“Brian, what are you doing? Are you ok?”

Brian heard the tinge of panic lacing Justin’s voice.

He started to cough as the wisps of smoke, began to thicken into clouds of smoke.

He walked back into the bedroom, carefully closing the door against the smoke.

Justin watched Brian with a worried, confused frown marring his usually perfect features, as he methodically almost robot-like walked into their bathroom, emerging with a saturated towel he pushed under gap at the bottom of the door.

Brian turned to Justin eying him up and down; determination written large on his face.

“That should buy us some time, but you were right Jus, we have to get the fuck out of here.”

Justin’s eyes widened as he realized that there was now only one way out.


	18. Killer Instinct

Cynthia listened carefully to the report the Private Eye was making with growing disbelief, “So Brian took Justin to some cabin in the middle of God knows where, and one of the men you were following has disappeared. Have I got that right?”

“Well yes, but there is more to it than that; it seems that the firm has been bugged and that all the information we had has also been infiltrated. We have just had our offices debugged so that this conversation is secure. I strongly suspect though that the phone lines of both Brian and Justin were compromised, which leads me to believe that he knows where they have gone.”

Cynthia’s voice went up two octaves as she screeched, “You mean the murdering bastard knows where the boys have gone?”

“Er, yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.”

“Do you have any idea where they have gone?”

“When I last reported to Brian he asked me to recommend a security guard to help protect Justin; he mentioned the cabin belonged to some guy named Ben.”

“That would be Michael’s boyfriend! Wait I’ll ring and see where this cabin is.”

 

“Hello, Debbie? I was wondering if maybe your detective friend could do us a favour?”

“So you’re sure he can meet us up at the cabin? That is wonderful! Yes I’ll make sure I give them all a kick in the ass, especially the idiot PI! I’ll give you a call as soon as we get back.”

 

Brian finally finished knotting the sheets together, under Justin’s dubious, watchful eye.

“You have got to be kidding, right? You expect me to go out of the window on that thing? Who do you think I am Rapunzel?”

“Any other suggestions?”

Brian pulled strongly at the knots, wishing he’d gone to the cub scouts. He tied one end to the bed, carefully releasing Justin’s leg from the support and lowering it gently onto the bed, averting his eyes from the look of agony etched into Justin’s face.

By now the fierce roaring of the flames below and the crackling and breaking as various bits of furniture and the inner walls of the cabin themselves caught fire was clearly audible.

Brian knew that it was only a matter of minutes before the door to the bedroom would also catch fire; he was sure the passage was well alight by now.

“Justin, you are going to have to help me.”

Brian kept his voice deliberately low and even.

“What do I have to do?”

Justin was amazed that his voice sounded almost normal.

“Try not to scream.”

Brian lifted Justin off the bed and carried him over to the window.

Justin bit his lip in an effort not to make a noise.

Brian kissed him on the lips as he placed him onto the window sill, carefully placing his legs through the window and sitting him so that his legs dangled over the edge.

Justin let out a soft yelp of pain, which was partially smothered by yet another passionate kiss.

Brian took Justin’s face into his hands and gazed into his terrified yet still adoring eyes.

 

“Justin, I wanted to tell you . . .”

Justin placed his fingers onto Brian’s lips, “Uh, uh tell me when this is all over, not now. It might just sound like goodbye.”

 

Brian grinned at his lover, “Bossy bottom”

Justin smiled widely at the loving almost caressing tone, he didn’t need Brian to tell him he loved him in words, his every action proved it unequivocally.

He took the end of the sheet Brian thrust into his grasp, his sunshine smile stuck firmly and determinedly in place, only the slight squinting around his eyes belied the pain and fear trying to force it’s way to the surface.

Brian eased him out the window and began to lower him down onto the soft snow below.

For a sickening minute the first knot of the sheet became stuck on the edge of the sill.

Justin was left dangling in space unable to fend himself away from the wall and dreading the feeling of his bad leg hitting the cabin.

Brian frantically worked to lift the knot up over the sill, trying not to jerk the sheet and send Justin swinging into the cabin wall.

Sweat was beading onto his brow as he labored to make the descent as smooth as possible.

He heard and felt the staircase collapse under the onslaught of the flames.

The acrid stench of the smoke was pervaded the room.

Brian looked down at Justin as he finally reached the limit of the sheets.

He was still dangling about six feet above the ground.

“Fuck!” I was hoping he would be closer to the ground than this.”

“Justin!” 

Brian’s hoarse whisper made Justin crane his neck to look up at him.

“You are going to have to let go!”

Justin looked down at the ground spinning dizzily below.

The window beside him allowed him to see the devastation the flames were wreaking on the inside of the cabin.

He also realized the danger Brian was in and that the longer he delayed the more peril for Brian.

He let go abruptly.

He was conscious of the instant flash of absolute agony, before blessed unconsciousness overtook him.

Brian saw him crumple into the snow as he quickly lowered himself hand over hand down his makeshift rope.

He jumped down the last few feet and landed as close to Justin as possible.

He pulled his feet out of the snow, calling Justin’s name softly but urgently; swearing quietly to himself, as the body in the snow remained immobile and silent.

Reaching Justin in two long strides, he let out a sigh of relief as he saw the hardly perceptible movement of Justin breathing.

He pulled him over onto his stomach, his heart wrenching as he saw fresh blood welling up under the plaster and bandages on Justin’s already injured leg.

Brian held his breath as he watched Justin’s shallow breaths seeming to almost falter before they again puffed steam into the air. 

He picked Justin up and then reached for the gun nearby.

Hoisting Justin up over his shoulder he made straight for the trees just as the house caved in to the fire and the fuel tanks attached to the side of the cabin blew up.

Brian was almost thrown into the trees as snow and smoke billowed around him and bits of debris fell in amongst the trees.

 

He continued into the trees, desperately searching for a place to put Justin down so he could check on him.

 

Chris saw the roof cave in and realized that somehow he had missed Justin and Brian, “Either that or the stupid fags just burned to death.”

He started to head towards the cabin when the explosion occurred.

He too was thrown back. The impact of the explosion throwing him into the trees and he was showered with jagged pieces of metal and debris from the house and the tanks at the side.


	19. Killer Instinct

Brian couldn’t help looking over his shoulder as he carefully carried Justin, pulling his feet up powerfully from the snow sticking to his shoes.

He tried to remember where the lake was in relation to the cabin and breathed a sigh if relief as he saw the frozen mass ahead.

He had decided to skirt around the lake and see if he could find another house or even a boat shed which could be useful, “I have to find somewhere to get Justin out of this freezing wind and into safety.”

Concern radiated out of his eyes and face as he gazed tenderly down at the still, almost lifeless form cradled in his arms.

He sighed, once more trudging through the snow, each step becoming slower as he ploughed his way through the mounting drifts.

“Well Sunshine the upside of this little adventure is that this fucking wind will cover our tracks. The downside is that we’ll probably freeze to death before anyone finds us friend or enemy.”

Brian thought longingly of the fur-lined full-length jacket that had been left in the closet in the cabin.

“Maybe we should have stayed in the fucking fire, at least we would have had a hot death. I always said I still want to be hot when I go.”

Brian started to laugh, an almost hysterical tinge tainting the laughter.

“No fuck it. I am not giving up. We are not giving up, what was it you said to me, ‘My persistence is only surpassed by my narcissism? You were kind of right Sunshine, only now there seems to be more on my mind than just me. If you thought I was persistent on my own behalf just imagine how fucking stubborn I can be when it comes to people I love.”

Brian was now reduced to stumbling through the snow and the temptation to lie down was almost overwhelming, only the soft, irregular breaths against his neck kept his feet moving forward.

He was so busy trying to forge a way through the snow that he almost walked past the shed.

“Fuck, Justin, Justin!”

Brian looked into Justin’s pale, almost blue face with increasing horror, “It’s okay, we can shelter in here. It will be alright.”

‘Yeah sure Kinney it will be fine. You can’t even feel your feet any more and how are you supposed to get into this locked shed?’

Brian lay Justin down in the snow, trying to avoid looking at the way Justin’s head rolled loosely on his shoulders.

He forced his way to the side of the shed, sighing in relief as he noted the window; reaching into the back of his trousers he quickly retrieved the gun he’d almost forgotten was there.

He struggled to resist the trembling of his muscles as the movement brought the biting cold slicing freshly into his body.

Brian swiftly and powerfully smashed the butt of the gun into the window-pane and was gratified to hear the breaking of the glass.

He grabbed a tree branch that was propped up against the wall and used it to push out the rest of the glass.

Reaching carefully through he undid the clasp and opened the window, excitement giving new life to his nearly frozen limbs.

Racing past the cabin cruiser in the middle of the shed Brian quickly threw open the small door at the side of a couple of large double doors.

He rapidly located Justin, by now nearly covered in snow.

“Come on Sunshine, let’s get you out of this fucking wind.”

Brian lifted Justin as if he weighed less than nothing.

He carried him into the shed, laying him gently onto a pile of oilskins.

He looked around the shed, noticing a wooden cupboard that covered nearly the entire sidewall.

He was relieved to find no locks on the cupboard and even happier when he found warm clothes in one section and woolen blankets in another.

He was becoming more concerned about his own shivering body, but decided that Justin was still the first priority.

He had only had pajamas on and he doubted that they would have kept Justin warm at all, not to mention the melting snow was making the material more sodden by the minute.

He rapidly began to strip Justin’s clothes from his body, grimacing as he noted the now-dried blood which had oozed from beneath the structure meant to protect the leg and the fresh bruises which covered Justin’s chest. 

He was even more concerned with the strange position Justin’s arm and shoulder seemed to be in. He was sure he had either broken his arm or his collar bone.

He decided he would keep Justin’s arm against his body, placing one of the large gaudily colored thick fishing pullovers over Justin, again checking the breathing.

He grinned to himself as he pulled a pair of thick tweed fishing trousers onto Justin’s legs imagining the younger man’s horror at the fashion disaster he was now sporting.

Lastly he wrapped Justin up in two of the warm woolen blankets and rolled him onto his side, taking care that the damaged arm was secure and out of harm’s way.

He kissed him tenderly on his freezing lips; desperately hoping the slight improvement he thought he could detect in his breathing was not simply a product of hope and imagination.

Brian moved back to the cupboard, stripping off his sodden clothing as he moved.

He sighed as he slipped the fishing clothes on, trying not to look at the almost violent combinations of color that now adorned his own body.

“Fuck it! We had to end up in a shed that must belong to a fucking fishing freak related to Emmett!”

His frame trembling with fatigue and the cold he grabbed two more blankets, wrapping one around his shivering body and lying down beside Justin.

Curling himself up beside his lover he carefully covered them both with the last blanket, as he felt himself drift off to sleep he resolved to investigate the large boat next to them when he woke up.

He wrapped his arm tightly around Justin as if to keep him breathing by sheer force of will and at last allowed the blessed relief of sleep to overtake him.

 

 

Chris shook his head to dislodge the snow that seemed to have piled up on it.

He looked at the remains of the cabin with mild surprise.

“Well, looks like that’s the end of Taylor and his fag lover.”

He looked down at his body in surprise as he noticed a few gashes and bruises that definitely weren’t there before.

He blinked as blood dripped into his eyes, placing his hand to his forehead he felt yet another cut.

“Fuck, I feel like I’ve been in a fucking war!”

He automatically felt for his gun and felt a mild pang of disappointment when he failed to find it.

“I’ve got to get back to the tent, clean up and get fucking warm. Then before I leave this fucking hole, I might just go find the bodies. Just to make sure.”

Chris staggered along in the direction he knew he’d find his tent and the SUV he’d used to drive to the location.

After a rest and recouperation he knew he would return, after all he'd tried to get rid of Taylor before and failed.

This time he was determined to succeed.


	20. Killer Instinct

Brian awoke to feeling freezing cold but relief that he was still alive.

He immediately checked on Justin. He still had that transparent look to his skin and his breathing still seemed to be a bit labored. However he thought it was a bit more natural than before. It was more of a sleeping breath than that of an unconscious body.

He decided not to wake Justin although he longed to hear his voice and convince himself that all was well.

He slowly extracted himself from the blankets, already starting to shiver in the extreme cold.

He placed the extra blanket over Justin and wrapped himself in another.

He looked at the snow piled in soft drifts under the broken window and shook his head, knowing there was nothing he could do about the window, at least not yet.

He decided to explore the cupboard some more and the boat.

There might be something that could help their situation.

 

After a more thorough exploration of the large cupboard, Brian had made a few discoveries; he placed his meager amount of treasure carefully on a bench at the end of the shed under some tools and decided to check on Justin before investigating the contents of the cabin cruiser in the middle of the shed.

Brian gently placed his hand on the pile of blankets that were covering Justin. 

“Justin, Justin, wake up. I need you to wake up. I need to know you are all right.” Brian worked hard to keep the worry and near panic from his voice.

The tremor in his voice was barely detectable, but the delighted grin in response to Justin’s moan was totally irrepressible.

Justin huddled into the blankets, groaning.

“Brian?”

The weak tremulous tone was music to Brian’s ear.

“Hey Sunshine, about time you woke up. I was about to think the only solution to your Rip Van Winkle impersonation was to give you a blow job.”

Brian smoothed Justin’s hair back from his brow, delighted to see the young man conscious but troubled by the blue tinge he could see to the almost transparent porcelain white face.

“’M cold, Bri.” again the weakened voice pulled directly at Brian’s heartstrings.

“I know Sunshine. I’m working on it. I have to leave you for a minute. You gonna be okay?”

He was concerned about the way Justin’s eyelids were already drooping, he could see Justin was exhausted and in shock.

Brian wasn’t sure if he should let Justin sleep or work to keep him awake.

In the end he knew if he did nothing about their food and heat situation they might just both perish in this shed, so he opted for placing the blanket he’d wrapped around himself onto Justin, grimacing as he glimpsed the cacophony of colours that offended his eyes and then investigating the boat.

He had decided to use the tools to rip up some of the boards from the bench and board up the broken window.

He pondered his skills with tools as he climbed the ladder to the deck, hauling himself over the rail.

He was pleased to see that the cabin doors were not locked and he had easy access to the lower deck.

He clambered down the ladder carefully; mindful of the lightheaded feeling in his head, the result of the cold, lack of sleep and hunger; and headed straight to the small galley, delighted to find a small gas stove as well as saucepans and cooking utensils.

He gleefully remembered the tins of baked beans and soup he found in the cupboard, “We feast tonight Sunshine!”

He looked into one of the small rooms towards the bow of the small cruiser, rapt to see a large double bed that filled the small room, especially thrilled to see a large feather filled quilt covering the bed.

He raced back up the ladder and almost jumped down from the boat, gathering up as many cans as he could carry from the bench and caring them back into the cruiser.

Brian looked frantically for some matches, breathing a sigh of relief as he found them in the overhead cupboard.

He lit the small gas stove carefully, hands shaking in his haste to get it started.

As soon as the food was cooking on the stove, Brian dashed straight to Justin, gathering him up in his arms once more and carefully carrying him up into the boat.

Justin smiled sleepily up into his face as he placed him on the bed, wincing as Brian put him down gently unintentionally jostling his leg and shoulder.

Brian could not resist the urge to place a kiss on Justin’s forehead and promised to come back as soon as he could.

“’Kay.” Justin mumbled as he drifted back to sleep, the warm quilt already helping bring some colour back to his pallid face.

Brian returned to the tiny galley, carefully stirring the baked beans and the soup.

‘If the gang could only see me now; I’m actually salivating over fucking baked beans!’

He was quite impressed with the layout of the galley; everything was easy to find and yet could also be secured in the event of a storm. There was no wasted space and the efficiency of the arrangement was truly impressive.

The minute the soup was ready he ladled it out into two bowls.

Turning the beans down to a slow simmer, he carefully carried the bowls into the other room, shivering and thinking he had to board up that window as soon as possible.

Balancing the two bowls precariously on the side of the bed Brian crawled in beside Justin, waking him up with a kiss on the lips, savoring the taste despite the dire situation.

Justin again woke up with a smile.

“What’s that fantastic smell?”

“Fucking tinned soup; smells wonderful doesn’t it?”

“Mmmm, nearly as good as you.”

“Hope not Sunshine, I am in severe need of a shower. I stink. The soup better not smell like that!”

Justin started to laugh and then caught his breath as the pain from the movement struck.

Brian placed his arms carefully around Justin’s shoulders, trying to support him and lessen the pain as he helped him to sit up resting on the pillows behind him.

Brian placed the two bowls of soup on his lap.

Justin tried to extricate one arm from the huge, thick, woolen fisherman’s jumper he had semi wrapped around him, grimacing as the pain again hit like a sledgehammer.

“Uh, uh Justin you can’t deprive me from playing nursemaid, just don’t tell anyone.”

“You’d only deny it anyway!”

Justin sipped tentatively at the spoon that Brian held in front of his pouting lips.

“Oh my God that’s good.”

“Yeah this would have to be the best tinned soup I’ve ever tasted.”

Justin looked at his lover, surprised.

“Okay, it’s the only fucking tinned soup I’ve ever tasted, and after this it will be the last!”

Brian smirked at Justin who smiled back.

Brian was quiet for a while after that feeding Justin and himself until he had scraped the last bit of soup from the bottom of both bowls.

“That was just the first course, not for the main.”

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Hey, I can wield a can opener with the best of them!”

Brian made his way back to the galley, pouring out the baked beans onto two plastic plates.

He still couldn’t quite believe that he was almost enjoying this whole adventure.

He knew they could survive, he could weatherproof the shed; they wouldn’t starve, although a steady diet of soup and beans would probably have some drawbacks.

He figured they were safe, remembering he’d left the gun on the bench in the shed. Surely Chris had been blown up in the explosion, or if he hadn’t then he would have believed Brian and Justin were blown up in the cabin. So at least he was out of the equation.

Brian hastened back to share the beans with Justin, once more waking him with a kiss.

After making sure Justin was as warm and as comfortable as he could make him, Brian turned to his next project.

He already felt warmer and more positive about their prospects, he almost cheerfully grabbed the hammer and using the claw end started to pull planks of wood from the bench. Then holding the planks carefully over the window, using the nails he’d found in the drawer of the workbench, he hammered them vigorously into place.

He was grateful to feel the fierce wind that had been blowing the snow in through the window abate, as he filled in the window with the planks.

The sky was again starting to darken as he wearily made his way back to Justin, curling up against his back with exaggerated care, ensuring that his movements did not disturb the peaceful sleep of Justin.

He placed a lantern from the galley and the matches on a small ledge next to the bed, so that he could light it in an emergency.

He kissed the back of Justin’s head, softly stroking his hair, feeling Justin snuggling in to him.

Brian sighed deeply and went to sleep almost the minute his eyes shut.

 

Chris had slept the entire day; he’d taken care to tend all his wounds.

He was mildly surprised at the number; he’d cuts and gashes on his head, arms and legs as well as some bruising and abrasions on his torso and back.

He washed and bound his worst cuts; grateful for the packets of army food he’d brought with him.

Satisfied with the food, first aid and change of clothes, his others had been nearly shredded in the blast, he’d settled into his sleeping bag, determined to check the crater that used to be the cabin as soon as he woke.


	21. Killer Instinct

The sun had just started to stain the sky with the palest pink as Chris shook himself awake.

Jubilation filled his entire body as he remembered his handiwork from the previous day.

It even made him forget the aches and pains that seemed to worsen in the night.

He carefully ate some cereal, pondering his next moves.

“That’s it, I’ll eat this, pack up the tent and equipment and stow it in the SUV.”

Chris efficiently began to pack up his belongings, shaking off as much snow as he could.

“Huh, I always knew I’d make a good Eagle Scout, except I bet they’re all full of fags!”

He grimaced with pain as he caught his bleeding arm on one of the ropes used to secure his tent.

“Fuck! Okay when I finished this I’ll wander back to the site and give it a quick once over. Maybe I’ll even bury the bodies. Nah, let the animals have ‘em, about all they’d be good for.”

The minute he had his gear stowed to his satisfaction, he slogged back through the snow towards the place where the cabin used to be.

 

Brian awoke to a gentle nuzzling and warm breath in his ear.

“If you don’t intend to finish what you start Sunshine, don’t start!”

His attempt at a gruff voice failed miserably and he opened his eyes to see a smile that easily outshone the pale imitation in the sky outside.

He rolled over, ultra aware of Justin’s injuries and ultra careful not to exacerbate them.

“How can you look like shit, feel like shit and still come up with a smile like that?”

He kissed Justin on the nose and placed his forehead against Justin’s lovingly.

“Guess it all depends on the view you wake up to.”

Brian found himself grinning back at Justin’s infectious smile.

He grinned even harder when he felt Justin’s good hand reach over to his crotch.

“Shit Justin,” he murmured, longing to let Justin continue and knowing that he couldn’t, “You are fucking incredible!”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Brian gently but firmly removed Justin’s hand, kissing it before he slipped it back under the covers.

“We’ve got baked beans and soup for breakfast.”

Justin’s stomach rumbled at the mention of the word ‘food’.

“Hah and the sooner the better by the sound of that!”

“Well I would have happily eaten you, but you didn’t seem willing.”

Brian laughed at Justin’s pouting face.

“You are not moving. You are in no condition to give me a blow job.”

“No I suppose not, but it might have been fun trying.”

“It would have been bloody agony, you stupid fucker.”

The thought that Justin was willing to harm himself in order to give Brian pleasure made him feel physically ill.

Justin looked as if he’d been hit.

Brian saw the look and felt like he’d been punched in the gut, the jocular mood of a moment before, completely disappeared.

‘Shit Brian, you fucking idiot. Can’t you see he’s hanging on by a thread and needs you to help him cope, not remind him how fucking dire the situation really is!”

He kissed Justin passionately, if carefully, on his trembling lips, deliberately tangling his tongue with Justin’s.

He allowed their tongues to dance together just long enough to get Justin well and truly aroused.

They used the kiss to express their passion, love and commitment; there was the sorry Brian would never say and the hope they needed to feel.

Justin was panting by the time Brian reluctantly drew away, Brian kissed his nose, cheeks and forehead.

“Later.”

He deliberately let his ass sway slightly as he swept out of the cabin, grinning to himself, ‘Mission Accomplished’ as he heard Justin’s groan.

 

“Fuck I’m good!”

Chris was surveying the pitiful remains of the cabin that had previously sat on the site.

There were chunks of metal, wood and plastic strewn over or half buried in the snow.

Debris was scattered over a radius of several yards, most disappearing into the trees.

Chris felt he’d seen everything and felt a pang of disappointment that he couldn’t locate any bodies.

He turned around and was about to trudge back to his vehicle, when he noticed a colourful piece of material sticking up out of the snow.

At first he thought it must just be a bit of curtain, then uncertainty hit him and he felt compelled to investigate further.

“Son of a Bitch!”

He pulled the knotted sheets up out of the snow with one swift, furious yank. 

“I don’t fucking believe it! Those mother fuckers are still alive.”

He spent the next few minutes swearing, cursing and kicking at anything he could reach.

An evil grin spread slowly over Chris face, “Well they couldn’t have gotten far. At least one and probably two of the fudge packing bastards are probably injured. Maybe I should mount a rescue party?”

Chris looked around for a few minutes as if trying to work out which direction to take, at last heading out along the invisible track to the lake.

 

“Room Service, Mr Taylor. WE have everything you ordered sir, baked beans and soup.”

“Good help is so hard to find these days,” Justin sighed fighting hard to keep the smile from his face as he reacted to Brian’s poor imitation of a maid, “I’m sure I ordered soup and baked beans.”

Brian placed the plates carefully down, ostentatiously flicking a napkin and placing it over Justin, secretly pleased that he’d found such a civilized thing in this out of the way place. 

‘The owner of the cabin cruiser must have had some class, even if he did have poor taste in tinned food.’

Brian bent down over Justin and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“You can complain to the manager later,” he whispered.

He started to feed Justin, when Justin pressed his lips together.

“What the fuck, I am so not playing Choo Choos with you, you are not Ted and I am definitely not Emmet.”

Justin just stared back at Brian with a determined look on his countenance.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

Brian struggled to keep the irritation from his voice.

Justin waited until the spoon had been returned to the plate, noting the controlled move and understanding that Brian was working hard to control his temper.

“I’m not eating till you start feeding yourself too.”

Justin gazed defiantly at Brian, as if waiting for a storm to break.

“You are a really stupid twat, you know that?”

Justin grinned through the tears, as Brian fed himself then Justin.

At the end of the meal, Brian could see that Justin was fading fast, he deliberately worked to keep his tone from sounding anxious as he gently kissed the sleepy Justin on the forehead, “Sleep love, I’m going investigating.”

Brian started a systematic search, throughout the cabin, failing to notice the distant huddled figure, slowly moving towards the shed containing the cabin cruiser.


	22. Killer Instinct

Brian was busy in the bowels of the cruiser by the time Chris had worked his way up to the shed.

He walked slowly around the building, “Well there is no way in; the doors are locked, one window is locked and the other is boarded up tight, so the slimy bastards can’t be in there.”

He was just about to turn and continue to follow the lake around looking for another cabin or house when he swung around for a closer look at the boarded up window.

“Fuck! Who boards up windows from the inside?”

Chris pushed his face up against the window next to the boarded up window, struggling to see inside.

He spotted some blankets lying haphazardly on the floor and tins stacked neatly on a bench.

He also saw the gun lying innocently on the bench near the tins.

“How kind of him to leave me a weapon, I seem to have misplaced mine on the way here. Look at the fucking blankets, no respect for anything the animals. I can just imagine what they were doing on the floor.”

Chris mind went unwillingly to a certain sport’s shed and a talented warm hand, an intense feeling of need and passion and a dreaded feeling of shame and hate competed within his brain. He looked down at his now erect dick. 

“Filthy animals! They need to die!”

 

While Justin was sleeping semi-peacefully Brian was thoroughly investigating the boat.

He already knew the contents of the workbench in the shed and the large cupboard covering the rear wall. 

He was intrigued with some of the contents of the boat, even thinking at one stage that maybe owning a boat would be fun.

He looked at the radio ruefully, even if there was a working battery on the boat, he had not a clue how to work the thing.

He had gone forward into the small space at the bow; here he discovered flares and various ropes as well as extra sleeping bags, fishing gear and nets.

 

Every item was neatly stored for easy access and again Brian mentally admired their unknown benefactor.

He carried the extra sleeping bags and the flares and laid them neatly into the deck. 

“Good survival gear.”

 

Chris was manically glaring through the window as he watched Brian emerge onto the deck. 

He literally saw a red haze, his fury almost blinding him as he gazed in disbelief at the smiling face of Brian.

He ducked below the window ledge, unwilling to confront Brian just yet, at least not until he had a weapon in his hand.

He decided to retreat to his vehicle and review the situation, obviously he could not drive off until the vermin had been efficiently exterminated and he now knew they both were still on the earth as there was no way that bastard would have been smiling if his plan had succeeded.

 

Cynthia had finally managed to contact Ben with her cell phone, although the connection was shaky and kept breaking up, occasionally dropping out altogether, causing both parties to become very frustrated.

“So we must have missed the turn off?”

“Sorry, what was that? No we can’t find it anywhere and we are looking at the lake.”

“A land mark? What do you think the lake is?”

“There’s a sign? What sign?”

“Oh no, we passed that miles back! We must be on the wrong side of the lake.”

Again interference interrupted the pair.

Cynthia rolled her eyes and Debbie fought the urge to grab the phone from Cynthia’s grasp.

Cynthia turned to Carl who was driving, “we are on the wrong side of the lake, remember the sign warning about bears? Well Ben said the turn off to the cabin was about one mile past there.”

“Christ we passed that ages ago!”

Carl swore under his breath, not willing to get caught out in the forest at night.

“We’ll have to go back to the main road and stay over at the motel. We’ll start looking again at first light. Sorry Deb it’s just not safe, we might miss the turn off in the dark anyway.”

For a minute Deb looked like she might argue, then commonsense prevailed and she reluctantly nodded her head.

“Poor Sunshine, poor Brian!” she murmured.

“We’ll find ‘em Deb, honest we will. First thing tomorrow we’ll be back up here. Try not to worry. If we can’t find ‘em and we’ve got directions from Ben, then how the Hell would Chris? I bet they’re both curled up in front of a roaring fire toasting marshmallows. That guy Brian hired was one of the best; he’s an ex-marine for Christ’s sake. They’ll be fine.”

Debbie looked across at Carl and nodded, but secretly she was almost overwhelmed with anxiety, she felt something was wrong, very wrong indeed.

 

Brian was triumphantly brandishing a First Aid Kit and handbook as he strode back into the cabin where Justin was just waking up.

Justin looked into Brian’s glee filled face, mock terror covering his face as he pretended to cower away from ‘Doctor’ Brian.

“This is my cue to put on plastic gloves roll up my sleeves regard you lasciviously and leer at you while demanding you roll over so I can examine your prostate!”

“You are not getting anywhere near my ass!”

“Why Sunshine that would be a first for us, wouldn’t it?

Justin couldn’t stop the chuckles although it hurt to laugh.

“Well, I actually brought this equipment up here so that we can secure that arm, then you won’t get hurt each time you move.”

Justin went white enough to match the sheets.

“Brian?”

Brian heard the plea and the trust implicit in the word.

“It’s ok Jus, I’ve read the manual. If I’m right I think it is a relatively simple break. We just need to use these bandages to secure your arm to your body. I promise I won’t hurt you. I can’t stand to see you in pain. I’m worried that if we don’t stop that arm from moving you might do permanent damage. I have important uses in mind for that hand when we get back home.”

He looked at Justin’s quirk of the head accompanied by a grimace.

“For painting great masterpieces of course!”

He placed the First Aid kit on the floor.

He almost felt Justin’s pain as he hear the hiss of pain while he uncovered the injured arm.

“There’s some swelling around the break, but the fact that you can wiggle your fingers and the good colour in your hand means the blood is getting through fine. Keep your hand in that position. The book says you usually place it naturally where it is the most supported and I am supposed to maneuver this triangular bandage under it then tie it at the back.”

Justin trained his eyes on Brian’s face enjoying the close proximity, despite his nervousness.

Brian kissed him gently on the lips, placing the book where he could easily read it on the bed.

He gently slipped the triangle bandage beneath Justin’s arm, draping one end over Justin’s shoulder.

He looked back at the book, checking that he had it the right way round and in the correct position.

When he was satisfied, he went on to the next page, lifting up a corner and pulling it gently back over Justin’s shoulder.

He stopped for a moment before tying the bandage in place with a reef knot.

Justin struggled to contain his laughter as he watched the tip of Brian’s tongue protruding from those incredibly kissable lips.

At last Brian finished his ministrations, even going so far as to make sure all the ends were neatly tucked into place.

Justin was unable to resist any longer, he leaned forward and sucked Brian’s tongue into his own mouth.

Brian lost himself in the passion of the kiss.

He leaned back to survey his impatient patient.

“Well does it feel better now?”

“Hmm, does what feel better now?”

Justin leaned in to capture those lips again and Brian obliged enthusiastically.

The only thing that broke the boys apart was the unwelcome gurgling of Justin’s stomach.

Brian pulled back, leaning his forehead against Justin and grinning widely.

Justin leant back into the pillows again, surprised by how secure and comfortable his arm was feeling.

“You are a miracle worker, this feels much better.”

“I’m glad. Now do you want soup and baked beans or baked beans and soup?”

“We really have to find a different restaurant, this one is getting too predictable.”

“Ah yes, but where would we find a place with waiters as sexy as me?”

Justin rolled his eyes as Brian wriggled his ass on his way out the door.

 

Chris curled up in the back of the SUV, wrapping himself in his sleeping bag, finally convinced that he had the perfect plan and eager to sleep so he could execute it and them first thing in the morning.


	23. Killer Instinct

Brian looked out of the window and sighed.

He watched the soft flakes slowly, but relentlessly drifting down out of the overcast yet lightening sky, clouds still scudding over the swift glimpses of brilliant azure backgroud.

“At least it’s not a blizzard, but it makes the flares fucking useless, no one would possible see it in this sky.”

As Brian surveyed the workbench in front of him, he noticed the large tin basin beneath it. It was probably used for cleaning fish, but Brian had other ideas for this implement.

He grinned as he imagined Justin’s response to his plan.

He put on an extra thick heavy jumper trying to ignore his immediate reaction to the hideous combination of colours he was now sporting; placed a blanket over his shoulders grabbed a bucket and a spade from beside the door and headed out into the snow.

 

Chris could not believe his luck as he watched from behind a clump of snowy bushes.

“What the fuck is the fag doing?”

He looked on with an almost comical expression as Brian slogged his way through the snow towards the lake.

“This is just too easy!” 

Chris made his way to the door of the shed, careful to keep an eye over his shoulder in case Brian returned.

His eyes gleamed as he saw the small entry to the shed had been left unlocked.

“Like I said, too easy.”

Chris’ glance darted around the small shed, taking in but not really considering the importance of the cabin cruiser in the middle of the shack.

His focus was on the gun lying on the bench. 

He had just snatched it up and tucked it into the back of his pants, when he heard the sound of Brian thumping his boots against the wall.

He cursed under his breath, he wanted to catch the two together like rats in a trap and he hadn’t located Justin yet.

He moved around the far side of the cruiser, slipping out of the door unnoticed by the preoccupied Brian.

He did not stop holding his breath until he reached the shelter of the bushes again.

 

Brian was pleased that he had his bucket of snow, he had thought maybe he would have been able to collect some water from the lake, but although it seemed frozen solid, a couple of eerie cracking noises had convinced him to have a rapid rethink.

So instead of trying to break the ice with the spade he’d shoveled up the snow piling it into the bucket, dragging it back to the shed.

He was shaking the snow off and hitting them on the wall to loosen that last bits, when he suddenly hit himself upside the head, “What an idiot, I should have filled it up near the shed!”

He grimaced to himself as he put his shoes back on careful not to let more snow get on them; then turned around to pick up the bucket, not noticing the wet patches already on the floor.

Again his concentration was totally on the bucket of snow he was carting up onto the deck and failed to see the shed door quietly open and shut.

He put the largest pot he could find onto the small stove, lit the gas and proceeded to fill the pot with the snow.

He smiled softly to himself as he imagined Justin’s reactions to his surprise.

 

Justin was still asleep when he felt the warm washer on his face, gently stroking the grime and stress away.

His brilliant blue eyes flew open.

“Morning Sunshine.”

Brian held up the soapy cloth as if he held the crown jewels in his hands.

“Oh my God, Brian you are fucking amazing.”

“We here at ‘Cruiser Hotel’ like to pride ourselves we think of everything. A lovely bed bath for sir and then a wholesome breakfast of soup and baked beans.”

He ignored the groan from Justin, dipping the cloth in the soapy water.

 

He pulled the covers from Justin’s body and gently pulled off the large sweater he’d wrapped him in.

He was immediately conscious of Justin’s body and the ripe but somehow incredible sexy scent the young man was exuding.

Brian took a deep breath and desperately tried to concentrate on the job in hand.

He wanted desperately to lick the goose bumps from his body and enfold him in his arms, keeping him safe and warm and loved forever.

He shook his head to clear it of those thoughts.

Taking the washcloth, still full of warm soapy water, he wrung it out carefully so it did not drip onto the sheets.

He placed a towel next to Justin so he could dry the lean body off as he went.

He gazed deeply into Justin’s eyes, unable to believe the love and joy radiating from them in these extreme circumstances.

He started to wash Justin’s face stroking then kissing his lips as he went.

Brian tried to ignore Justin’s moans.

“This was not part of the plan.” Brian whispered the words into Justin’s mouth as he continued to wash Justin, using his deep knowledge of the younger man’s body, gained through countless erotic explorations, to guide his hands.

Justin grinned, “What plan?” his own hand now seemed to be moving of it’s own volition, smoothing the worried lines on Brian’s forehead and moving down to trace his lips.

“The plan where I clean you up, make you feel better and feed you.”

Justin sucked greedily on Brian’s tongue, “Oh but I’m feeling very good right now.”

Justin ‘s hand continued to wander, his shattered leg and broken arm seemingly forgotten.

Brian held the now cold face washer, “I need more soap.”

The breathy words were almost whispered as he fought against the inclination to stop washing and start fucking his partner.

He leaned off the bed to the basin and again doused the cloth; once more wringing it out carefully and at the same time taking in large gulps of air, while mentally steeling himself to resist Justin.

He sat back up, trying hard not to look at Justin’s eyes, or lips or body at all.

He washed Justin’s neck and chest, keeping his eyes fixed on the pillow next to his head.

Justin could not help the joyous laughter bubbling out of him.

He reached out with his good hand and grasped Brian’s determined chin, “You seem to be very interested in my pillow, all of a sudden, what’s the big attraction?”

He reached behind Brian’s head pulling him into his embrace, kissing him lightly on the cheeks, nose and his closed eyes.

Brian knew he was done for.

“Fuck! Justin this is impossible.”

Justin went on kissing Brian, punctauting each word with a delicate kiss.

“What, kiss, is, kiss, impossible, kiss?”

“This whole fucking situation,” Brian moaned as Justin used his good hand to reach down between them.

“Well if you are going to clean me up anyway, why don’t we get really dirty first?”

Justin deftly undid Brian’s top button, easily undoing the zip and plunging his hand into the warm depths, smiling to himself as he wrapped his fingers around the rigid prick copiously leaking and amply demonstrating Brian’s predicament.

Brian responded by moaning into Justin’s mouth, completely forgetting the washcloth that was becoming colder by the minute beside the two oblivious bodies.

He manfully resisted the urge to thrust against Justin, still partially conscious of the need to take care of his injuries.

He rolled to the side, Justin’s hand still vigorously forcing moans and reactions from his body.

“Brian,” Justin’s soft voice just managed to penetrate the mist of pleasure surrounding Brian’s brain.

“Hmm?”

“Move up, I want to suck you off, if we are careful it will be ok.”

Brian looked startled and stared hard into Justin’s eyes, seeing the want and need; he moved slowly and cautiously up the bed, Justin using his good hand to pull Brian’s trousers further down.

They both grinned as Brian’s cock finally bounced free of its confined space.

Again Brian looked doubtful as he murmured, “Are you sure?”

Justin’s immediate answer was to grasp Brian’s prick with his good hand and pull him into his waiting, warm, inviting mouth.

Brian could not believe the feeling.

It had been so long, he had to fight to maintain even a shred of control.

Justin delighted in the unrestrained moans and expressions of desperation and delight he could wrest from his normally unexpressive partner.

He wanted to make the moment last as long as he could, but he too was desperate with need and longed to feel the salty taste of his lover pouring down his willing throat.

The combination of Justin’s expertise and his own need had Brian teetering on the edge in no time and when Justin pulled Brian deep into his throat and placed a slippery finger into his tight hole, Brian completely lost it, screaming endearments and exclamations out loud as he flooded his seed deep into Justin’s waiting mouth.

When both men had finally regained their breath, Brian looked semi-regretfully at the pot of by now nearly frozen water.

Justin licked his lips, grinning lasciviously at his lover, looking like the cat that swallowed the cream, “Looks like you’ll just have to start all over. I’m such a dirty boy!”

Brian looked at him from under his lowered lashes, smirking to himself.

“Hmm, dirty boys need a good clean.”

He licked Justin’s lips swiftly then started down his neck and chest.

His hands reaching for Justin zipper and rapidly freeing Justin’s cock, also rigid and leaking.

He sat back for a moment, looking deeply into Justin’s eyes seeking reassurance that it was ok to continue.

Justin gazed back with love and need and a small amount of fear, he didn’t need to say, “I’m scared but I trust you.” It was written in every line of his face and body.

Brian looked at the cast and the metal sticking out from Justin’s leg, the dried blood made him feel ill, but at least he thought there is no sour, bitter smell of decaying flesh.

Justin sensed the minute Brian ‘s mood changed, reaching down with his hand and tugging softly on Brian’s hair to bring him back to his task.

Brian held his lover firmly in place, determined that his ministrations would not hurt his partner in any way; he wanted to bring incredible bliss not unendurable pain.

He slowly licked at Justin’s dick, fondling his balls, ignoring Justin’s entreaties to move on.

“Did you know you taste like a lollypop?”

This time Brian used licks for punctuation.

Justin was beyond speech; words had been replaced by meaningless desperate vocalizations as he tried to show how much he longed for Brian’s talented mouth to wrap itself around his rock-hard dick.

Brian continued to slowly and torturously lick and occasionally stopped to admire Justin’s leaking, throbbing member.

He finally decided to take pity on the young man, engulfing his prick in one swift swoop.

Justin would have launched himself off the bed and into the stratosphere if Brian had not been holding him down so firmly.

Brian worked using all his tricks to bring Justin off as speedily as possible having tortured the young man minutes previously, he decided that the safest thing to do would be to make him cum as soon as possible and reduce the risk of injury.

Justin’s almost inhuman cry of extreme bliss rent the air.

 

Chris grimaced as he realized the reason for the cry, “So that is where you are!”

Chris gazed through the window at the boat in the middle of the shed, murder firmly on his mind as he tried in vain to ignore the ache in his groin and the tightness in his pants.


	24. Killer Instinct

Chris looked at the shed with distaste.

“Just right for two fucking faggots. What a damn shame I don’t have any explosives left. Well I guess you’ll have to do.”

Chris petted the gun at his side.

“I can’t risk either of these rats escaping the trap. This may take careful planning. I’d love to go all John Wayne on their asses but after the last few disasters, this has to go perfectly.”

“Obviously Taylor is still hurt, so that puts them at my mercy as that fucking asshole Kinney has to look out for him. So if I wait until after dark, when their defenses are at their lowest I should be able to pick them both off.”

“Fuck I might catch them both in bed, perverts that they are. They might even be fucking at it.”

Again Chris worked to ignore the tingling feeling in his cock, as he went a little further into the woods, planning on feeding himself on the rations he brought from the car and checking his other equipment. 

‘I might even jerk myself off. I could think about Angelina Jolie or someone like that, not Brad Pitt like those fairies and especially not about warm hands and soft breaths and silvery, soft feathery blond hair.’

 

Brian smiled to himself, satisfied with finally achieving his plan; and extremely pleased with the unexpected bonus.

He had managed to feed himself and Justin.

After some sidetracking, who knew bed baths could be such an erotic pleasure; he also managed to get both their bodies clean too.

He had actually started to hum softly as he did the dishes; although he castigated himself for being such a lesbian and he hated to admit it, he was almost enjoying this enforced bit of domesticity.

He placed all the waste water into the large basin and moved to go out of the small front door.

He froze as he looked out into the snow.

He swallowed hard to keep the bile from moving up into his throat.

Amongst his slushy tracks leading to the shack were some obviously fresh ones leading away from the shed.

Brian threw the water out into the snow and closed the door quickly, fighting to keep his breath even and his brain alert but not panicking.

He leant against the door, “Fucking Motherfucker, it has to be Chris! If it was anyone else they would have yelled or made themselves known somehow. Even if it was the owner and he was pissed he would have called out or called the cops. No this is definitely fucking Chris! Why couldn’t the fucker have died in the fucking explosion?”

“Think Kinney think!”

Brian knew his first move had to be to make Justin safe.

He looked out of the window, wondering if he could carry Justin into the woods to safety.

His heart dropped when he saw that someone had obviously been standing at the window for some time, as the prints were overlapping.

“Fuck I just can’t catch a break!”

Brian’s gaze wandered idly to the tool bench. 

At first he failed to understand why the sight of the empty tool bench worried him so much; then he remembered the exact place he had put the gun.

He pounded his forehead, “You fucking idiot Kinney. This priceless bit of boneheadedness may just have cost you and Justin your lives.”

Brian was absolutely certain that Chris now had the gun.

He was equally certain that Chris would try to use it that night.

His brain seemed to trip into overload as he calculated various scenarios, adjusting and adapting the new ideas until he deemed he had devised a plan that at least gave them a small chance of survival.

“Well if there is a God of Queers I hope he/she is smiling down on us tonight because it is gonna take a fucking miracle to get us out of this one.”

 

“I’m sorry Debbie, like I told you before, we cannot go into the woods to find the cabin at night.”

“I can’t believe we had to back track all the way to the next town to get fucking diesel for our car. These are the woods for fucks sake everyone out here drives 4 wheel drives, why don’t they fucking sell diesel for them.”

“Well at least the police seem to be taking an interest now.” Cynthia worked to be the voice of reason despite her misgivings.

“The report of an explosion in the forest may have triggered that response.” Carl replied dryly. He too was becoming concerned at the delay.

At first he’d thought Debbie was having a drama queen moment in her near panicky worry over the boys, but a few cell phone calls to some buddies on the force in Pittsburgh had informed him that although there had been a warrant issued for Chris Hobbes and an APB put out on him, he seemed to very successfully disappeared off the planet.

Privately Carl was pretty sure that Chris was probably holed up somewhere many miles away from the mountains, but he could not seem to repress that nagging doubt and although the motel manager had told them that they often heard explosions in these parts from foresters making new roads, or miners. This also did not seem to help dispel the growing sense of unease.

Ben had rung to give very precise specific directions and weather permitting, Carl was sure that tomorrow they would locate the cabin and the marine who stood guard over them.

Deb struggled to stop from going berserk with worry. She just knew that her Sunshine was in trouble. She had honed this sixth sense over many years. She always knew when Michael or Brian was in trouble and when Justin came onto the scene that sense just seemed to extend itself naturally to him.

She knew that Brian would do his best to look after Justin, ‘Huh the asshole would probably throw himself in front of a bullet for him, although he would shoot himself before he’d admit that to anyone else. He fucking loves him though and would never let any harm come to him.’

‘It is strange that I don’t have the some sense of urgency with Brian even though I know he must be in trouble too.’

Debbie thought back to the times when she already had the basin of water ready to bathe and dress Brian many injuries, after he had been subjected to Jack’s loving caresses. She knew the minute he’d escaped his house to somehow make his way to her, often limping and always hurting. Brian never ever seemed surprised that Debbie was prepared for him. Perhaps he knew that her maternal instinct had decided he too was one of her precious sons.

She tossed and turned in the small bed, wishing she could cuddle up to Carl and cursing the twin beds in the small room.

Cynthia was also doing her fair share of tossing and turning.

She fervently wished the dawn would come so they could check on her boss and Justin.

She knew the bond she shared with those two was stronger than mere boss and employee. She understood Brian better than anyone else, except Justin and she understood Justin’s place in Brian’s life better that anyone else, except perhaps Brian.

‘They both have to come out of this ok,’ the thought was more like a prayer, ‘if, God forbid, one of them doesn’t survive this the other might as well be dead anyway.’

On this morbid thought Cynthia finally drifted off into a fitful sleep, partially interrupted by the sound of two beds being pushed together in the next room.


	25. Killer Instinct

Brian decided he had to put his plan into effect immediately and that required him to come clean with Justin.

The minute Brian walked slowly into the room Justin knew something was wrong, he ached to remove the worried frown and drooping shoulders of his lover.

“Brian?”

Brian started at the softly spoken word, still mostly lost in thought, trying to see any other way out than the one he had devised or any problems that could go wrong with his plan.

‘It’s just like business,’ Brian gave himself a pep talk, ‘once all the boards are in place it’s down to win or lose and I always win!’ 

Justin was starting to get really worried, Brian hadn’t even been this preoccupied when they were in the cabin and they had been in real danger.

This seemed to be easy street in comparison to being in a burning building.

At last Brian spoke, “There is something I have to tell you Justin.”

Justin’s heart sank, “It’s not the old, ‘I’d be better off without you’ or ‘you’re too good for me’ chestnut is it?”

He knew the joke wasn’t very good, but it was the best he could come up with, on the spur of the moment.

He waited for Brian’s response, Brian tried to make a smile or smirk but the most he could manage was a pained grimace.

He sat gingerly down on the edge of the bed, knowing if he went closer he would weaken and enfold his lover in his arms and refuse to ever let him go.

He decided to take a light approach, hoping if he used levity Justin would not become over anxious.

“I have good news and bad news.”

‘Oh shit’ thought Justin, ‘Brian only uses really bad humor if the news is bad, he seems to think it relaxes me.’

“What’s the good news?”

“I can use the flares tonight, the sky is cloud free and there is no moon, so it should be seen easily everywhere.”

‘Of course it also means the temperatures will plunge tonight, just when we don’t need it.’

 

“That’s great, what’s the bad news?”

“We seem to have a stalker and the gun has mysteriously disappeared.”

Brian rushed the words out of his mouth knowing if he didn’t do it quickly he never would.

He almost wished he hadn’t as he watched the remaining colour drain out of Justin’s already pale face.

Justin instinctively leaned in toward Brian and this time Brian didn’t even try to stifle the need to caress Justin.

Once feeling himself safely wrapped in Brian’s arms Justin rediscovered strength enough to say the dreaded word.

His head lifted from the shelter of its nestling place in Brian’s shoulder, “Chris?”

The whispered word seemed to echo obscenely around the cabin.

“Yeah”, Brian tried his hardest for his most expressionless voice, not particularly surprised to notice that he had failed miserably and his voice sounded strained and foreign, “I think so, unless there’s two psycho killers out here in the fucking wilderness.”

“I have a plan.”

“Is that the good news or the bad?”

Brian explained the plan in detail, not pulling any punches as to the peril they were in and not making any promises that nothing could go wrong.

He instinctively knew that Justin would sense immediately if he were lying or trying to minimize the danger and that a move like that would only result in his precious drama queen worrying even more.

Justin’s face openly reflected his emotions and Brian watched the expressions on his face turn from fear to wonderment, to disbelief, to amusement back to worry and finally to almost panic.

He swallowed hard, struggling to keep his feelings in check, knowing that this was a time to back his partner up absolutely, that Brian would never be able to carry out the plan if he thought Justin was not behind him one hundred and ten per cent.

He lifted his head out from under Brian’s chin, where he’d been nuzzling into Brian’s chest as he listened quietly to Brian's heartbeat while he pondered over all he’d just been told.

He grasped Brian gently but firmly by his stubbly chin, kissing his lips softly then looking deep into his eyes.

“I love you. I trust you.”

“You understand I could not possibly do this without knowing you are safe don’t you?”

Brian could not keep the begging, pleading tone from his shaking voice.

“You know the part of the plan I hate most don’t you.”

“The same part I do I suppose.”

The two men could not tear their gazes from each other.

“This is totally fucked.”

“I have to Justin, if I thought you were in danger, I could never concentrate.”

 

Brian buried his head in Justin's hair, taking in his smell, greedily breathing in his lover's scent.

Both men chose to ignore the tremors running through Brian's body.

The unspoken words of, ‘If I can’t concentrate then we are both dead” remained unsaid, as if somebody did say them then they would come true.

Brian began to move, uncovering Justin slowly then wrapping him carefully in some blankets, trying as much as possible not to disturb Justin’s leg or arm.

Justin fought the urge to wince, cry or cry out in pain as Brian put on his most impassive expression.

He tried to think of Justin as a fragile parcel, he couldn’t bear to think of parting from his helpless lover.

He hated to think of what he knew he had to do next.

Once he was satisfied that Justin was safely wrapped in as many blankets as he could possibly fit around him and not suffocate him. Brian stepped back to survey his handiwork, brushing his hand lightly over Justin’s head, luxuriating for a moment in the soft silky texture, using the feeling as a touch stone, he kissed Justin lightly on the lips.

Justin pouted, brilliant blue eyes dancing as the ridiculousness of the situation struck him when he found he could not bring his arms up out of the blankets surrounding his body to pull Brian back for a deeper kiss.

Brian resolutely turned and walked out of the door leaving Justin trussed up on the bed.

“Later.”


	26. Killer Instinct

Brian raced to the small cabin at the bow; he threw all the gear that he’d discovered in the cupboard onto the floor, and then rushed back to Justin.

“This is weirdly reminiscent of Cleopatra when she was wrapped in a carpet to be presented as a gift for Mark Antony,” he grinned down at Justin as he carefully but hurriedly carried him to the space he had just created.

“If you roll me out of this bundle and throw me romantically atChris’ feet, I’ll never forgive you.”

Despite his acute pain and fear Justin managed a smile, not quite one of his trademark brilliant sunshine beams but a valiant attempt at one.

Brian stopped for a moment to marvel at his partner’s incredible bravery and strength.

He bent down to give him one last hard kiss.

Justin struggled in his blankets, “Fucker, you did that just because I couldn’t put my arms around you and you knew it would frustrate the shit out of me didn’t you?”

Brian just grinned in reply, raising one eyebrow and placing his tongue in his cheek.

He was so overwhelmed with the feelings of passion, fear and love he was unable to speak.

He placed Justin gently at the back of the space he had created in the bow, painstakingly ensuring that he was positioned so that he would have plenty of air. 

Then covered him with a tarpaulin, placing all the lines, chains, ropes and fishing gear in front so that it looked like it was simply a place for storing fishing and boating gear and there was no possible room for anything extra, let alone a body.

Brian sighed as he forced himself to leave Justin in his hiding place, praying to whatever Gods there were to keep him safe.

He stalwartly made his way back onto the deck gathering up the flares he had placed on the boat, ensuring he had read the firing directions correctly.

He figured he had some time before Chris would attack.

He was certain Chris would wait until it was either very late at night or early in the morning, when he thought they would be at their weakest.

He figured Chris would either come in through the small door at the front of the shack or the window at the side, “More likely to be the door, the window might slow him down and breaking glass would announce his arrival.”

Brian stationed himself beside the boat close to the stern, counting on Chris’ arrogance to give him a chance to implement the next part of his plan.

 

Chris emerged from his shelter, shaking the last of the snow from his body.

He thanked the God that was obviously on his side that he had thought to bring his extreme weather gear; slowly, carefully, he moved forward to take his position in the bushes near the shack.

“Stage one, no one can possible get out of there without me seeing.”

“Like fucking rats in a trap and this time no fucking explosion or Houdini out the window to save them. This time is the last time, this time nothing is left to chance, nothing can go wrong.”

Chris settled himself to wait for his favourite time, the time he knew everyone was at their most vulnerable, the wee small hours just after midnight.

They were his best and worst hours, they were the times when the talented hands, hot breath, boyish smells that were mixtures of sweat, musk and deodorant, the incredible feelings, the precipice and the blinding release, the shame, the torment , all combined.

He used to fight the urges, tell himself that if he could just get rid of the cause the urges would go away. He liked girls; he desperately wanted to like girls. They certainly liked him, although he could never seem to form a lasting relationship. That was the fault of Taylor’s talented hands too. 

Nothing ever compared to that encounter. Sometimes he even had to use his memory of those hands to get it up for the girl. Of course he never told the girl that, it was always easier to make her feel it was her fault. 

She just didn’t know what turned him on. She wasn’t quite sexy enough. She was too frigid, too inexperienced, the list went on and on. He never ceased to be amazed at the girls’ reactions, what was there about females that they loved taking blame?

Even when they had been reduced to tears, they were still apologizing as they walked out the door; it was fucking hilarious when you think about it.

After tonight though, there would be no more problems. They would all disappear when Taylor and his faggy friend disappeared.

 

As he drifted off into a half sleep his hand dropped to his crotch.

 

Chris jumped as his watch alarm beeped.

“Showtime!”

He moved silently and rapidly over the thin layer of snow covering the ground.

The shot that rang out as he blasted the lock from the shed door seemed to be like a thunderclap that echoed through the trees.

 

Brian froze in his position beside the boat, “Showtime!” he whispered softly.

He seemed preternaturally alert, knowing that it was imperative that he heard which side of the boat Chris was going to come around.

He placed his fingers lightly against the painted wood of the boat; every sense was heightened, he tried to feel any vibrations that might betray Chris’ whereabouts.

A thousand ‘What ifs?’ spun around each other in his head, he frowned to himself, forcing his brain to quiet so that he could concentrate on the slightest sound.

The silence following the initial gunshot was almost unbearable.

He fought the urge to yell out, “Move, you bastard!”

At last he heard a slight shuffling as Chris entered the shed; he breathed a sigh of relief as the tiny sound confirmed his guess.

Chris was moving past the cupboards where there was slightly more space.

As Brian moved silently towards the broken door he tried to ease the kinks out of his muscles; he fought against the urge to look over his shoulder, ignoring the constant feeling that Chris was behind him aiming a bullet at his back.

He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up as fear coursed through his body.

Brian grinned slightly as he heard the creak of the boards as Chris tried to go quietly up the stairs onto the boat, ‘What, did he think we wouldn’t hear the fucking gun shot? He really is a moron!’

‘Yeah but a fucking dangerous moron who is on the fucking boat with the man I could never live without!’

Again Brian forced himself to be calm, wryly smiling to himself as he thought about how everyone assumed him to be cool, calm and collected at all times. ‘If only they could see me now.’

Despite his best attempts adrenaline was pumping through his body and he was breathing with short quick breaths, “Get a fucking grip, Kinney!”

Brian started to breathe easier as he reached the doorway.

He blessed the sliver of moonlight and the brilliant stars, “Well at least this is going as planned.”

His relief was short lived as he heard the loud stream of abuse emanating from the shed.

“God don’t let him find Justin. I’ll do anything, I’ll give up tricking. I’ll fucking marry him. I’ll take up knitting, any fucking thing you want, just don’t let him find Justin!”


	27. Killer Instinct

Justin wondered if it was possible to just stop breathing, he remembered times from his childhood when he would play hide and seek with Daphne. He tried to breathe quietly in the closet so she wouldn’t hear him. That feeling was magnified a thousand fold by the fear he felt right now.

‘Brian,’ the thought came unbidden, ‘can I change my mind about your plan now, please?’

‘God I am pathetic, he’s made me as safe as he possibly can and I lie here like some wimpy twink shaking in my fucking boots, while he deals with a maniac with a gun.’

‘Get a fucking grip Taylor!’

Justin grimaced to himself, trying to tune out the streams of invective that were penetrating his cocoon.

 

Chris had looked in disbelief at the mussed but empty bed in front of him.

He felt the cold sheets with his hand, refusing to think about the two stunning men entwined on them. 

“Fucking Faggots! I know you’re here, come on out! You know I’ll find you. Mother fuckers! Come on out or I’ll fucking blow you to pieces.”

Chris gripped the gun, his knuckles white.

He fought against the urge to shoot wildly, unwilling to risk wasting the bullets and maybe running out, just at the wrong time.

“Where are you, fucking fairies? Are you Fudge packing bastards doing it? I guess you want to be fucking as you go? I could make it unforgettable for you, a bullet up your ass just as you come! How about that perverts?”

The eerie silence was starting to unnerve Chris.

Justin worked on trying to make himself smaller. He could hear Chris in the galley still swearing and calling out to his ‘prey’.

He suddenly felt sick as he was overwhelmed by the urge to sneeze, ‘Fucking allergies, Not Now!’

He felt his nose tickling irresistibly, with that burning sensation that always comes just before you sneeze.

Justin couldn't even move his hands from their confines to hold his nose to prevent the fatal sneeze.

“AH . . AH . . .AH . . .CHOOO!”


	28. Killer Instinct

Chris swung round, not quite sure if he’d heard something or not, then, “Ah . . Ah . . .Choo!”

“Ok,” the snarl in Chris; voice matched the sneer on his face.

He was just about to make his way for’ard when he heard a loud whooshing noise coming from outside the shed.

He jumped into the air, spinning around at the same time.

He looked around nervously, swinging the gun in his hand around wildly and swearing loudly.

He had just talked himself out of leaving the boat when he heard two more loud noises like small rockets blasting off.

“Fuck, it has to be Kinney and wherever he is; that weaselly faggot Taylor is too.”

Looking around rapidly almost as if he were expecting Justin to spring out of the woodwork, Chris raced up the steps and onto the deck.

 

Justin was wriggling madly in his cocoon but Brian had made it impossible to untangle himself from his swaddling.

“Your balls are toast Kinney,” his frantic attempts to free himself were to no avail and eventually he settled down desperately trying to hear the slightest sounds coming from outside. Anxious when he heard the sounds of Chris footsteps disappearing into the distance.

“Brian, I love you but I am going to kill you.”

Justin felt the tears come unbidden as he thought of Brian outside in the snow with an armed maniac.

 

Brian had paused for a moment to admire the flares as they shot into the clear star-studded sky.

“Sorry I couldn’t share it with you sunshine, it is truly pretty. Almost like the fourth of July.”

The minute he had fired the last flare into the air he moved straight into the bushes, grabbing the hefty tree bough he had chosen earlier and stationing himself outside the shed door, expecting and hoping Chris would come rushing out.

Chris raced for the door, stopping just short of the exit.

“Whoa, now if I had organized this little scenario I would be waiting outside the door.”

Chris let off a volley of shots, before barreling out the door.

Brian threw himself beside the shed the minute he had heard the first shot.

“Fuck, Motherfucking, fuck!”

He looked wildly around, then launched himself into the cover of some nearby bushes.

Chris raced outside, his head turning from side to side and the gun seeming to point in all directions at once.

He stopped just in front of the shed, his eyes searching the snow in front of him.

“Shit!”

The snow was so churned up it was impossible to gain any information.

Brian watched as Chris was silhouetted, by the light shining through the shed door.

He swore softly to himself as he saw Chris begin to turn.

Brian began frantically feeling in the snow around his feet, desperately looking for something to throw.

He threw the pinecone as close to the lake as he could, praying that it would work as a diversion and keep Chris away from the shed and away from Justin.

 

Chris immediately moved towards the bushes, swearing as he noticed the last few sparkles of the flares floating down through the crisp, clear sky.

He crashed about the undergrowth for a while, indiscriminately firing his gun as he searched the bushes in the starlit shadows.

 

Brian was using the noises Chris was making to help him navigate his way around Chris and further away from the shed, intent on making sure Chris did not reenter the boathouse. 

As Chris frantic movements slowed down , Brian tossed another fallen branch closer to the lake’s edge, feeling a moment’s triumph as he watched Chris race over to investigate the noise.

He hid himself behind a tree and hollered as loudly as he could, “Over here you stupid bastard!”

Brian was counting on Chris' anger to overcome his sense of caution.

Chris raced over to the clump of trees that concealed Brian.

Brian raised the branch like a club above his head and brought the branch down hard, intending to hit Chris in the head.

Unfortunately the dim light made it impossible to see his target clearly and instead Brian hit Chris’ outstretched arm, forcing the gun from Chris’ hand and spinning it out of sight into the gloom.

Chris swore colourfully as pain radiated down his arm.

He grabbed at the branch with his good hand, nearly succeeding in wrenching it out of Brian’s grasp as the adrenaline coursing through his body imbued him with unexpected strength.

 

The freezing cold went unnoticed by the two combatants, both frantically fighting for possession of the weapon.

Neither man noticed the fight was taking them closer to the edge of the lake either.

As the two men started to tire Chris began to snarl at Brian.

“Why don’t you just give up, you fucking faggot!”

“He’s not worth it!”

Brian tried to ignore the goading tone, knowing Chris was just trying to distract him so he could win the fight.

He gripped the branch even tighter, the bark pressing painfully into his clenched fists as he ground out, “He’s worth more than both of us put together.”

Chris was so shocked he almost let go of the limb, feeling it start to slip through his fingers into Brian’s grasp he grabbed at it, almost pulling it away from Brian in his desperation.

He looked crazily into Brian’s eyes over the limb, panting with the effort, “You know we aren’t that different.”

This time Brian nearly let go the branch, in shock.

‘Except one of us is sane and I know it ain’t you!’

“We both know what it is like to want to kill someone, you did mean to kill me with this didn’t you?”

‘Well duh?! Of course you idiot, you were trying to kill the best thing ever to enter my life and I would kill, without thought to protect him.’

“No, I was planning on tickling you to death with it.”

Brian’s sarcastic tone cut through the crisp air like a knife.

He could feel his arm muscles tiring as he maintained the pressure on the branch, secretly blessing all the time he’d spent in the gym building up his biceps and triceps.

“It’s all his fault.”

“How the fuck did you work that out? What the fuck has he ever done to you, you sonofabitch!?”

Brian did not even try to keep the outrage from spitting out of his mouth.

“He gave me the best fucking hand job of my entire life and ruined me for every woman ever since.”

The venom that accompanied this statement was so potent; Brian felt he could almost taste it.

He couldn’t help it, at first it started as a giggle and then it turned into a guffaw of raucous laughter, “That’s my Sunshine!”

He let go of the limb and Chris flew backwards, landing on the ice covering the lake, dumbfounded by Brian’s reaction.

“You dumb shit. It had nothing to do with Sunshine, even though he does give magnificent handjobs, and by the way his blowjobs are even better, you are gay, fuckwit. You are a fucking fairy.”

Fury blinded Chris, this was his worst nightmare come true, to hear the unspeakable words spoken aloud was just too much, he was surrounded by a red haze of fury and dropping the branch he rushed at Brian, intent on eradicating the source of his pain.

He rushed at Brian, Brian looked mildy amused as he easily sidestepped the clumsy attack.

Chris stood, shaking the snow from himself like a bear.

Not even pausing to see where his quarry was, his rage driving him forward, he again rushed heedlessly at Brian.

This time the impetus of his movement carried him right out onto the ice.

Brian heard and felt the ominous sound of ice cracking.

He threw himself up onto the bank, watching dispassionately as the cracks radiated out from Chris body, prone on the ice.

“If I was you, which thank Christ I never will be, I’d be very still”

He lay back on the bank.

Chris struggled to sit up; still so angry that he failed to realize his predicament, even the cold of the ice did not penetrate the rage he was feeling.

He stamped his foot down hard onto the ice trying to gain traction and get to his feet.

His scream rent the still night air as his foot broke the ice and his leg went into the icy waters, the cold sending stinging shafts of pain racing through the nerves in his legs.

He scrabbled on the ice, trying to keep his balance as the lower half of his body, slipped into the freezing water.

“Help me, please!”

Brian looked at the helpless individual balancing precariously on the broken ice.

He looked directly into Chris’ eyes, “Yeah I could help you, or I could just let you die, you bastard.”

Chris saw the glint of steel in Brian’s eyes and for the first time since entering the woods on his mad quest he felt real fear.


	29. Killer Instinct

Brian regarded the man teetering on the brink of the ice as the lake’s deadly, freezing fingers clawed their way into his body.

He looked, with almost no emotion registering on his face, as the man’s movements becoming more and more sluggish although their desperate nature and his anguished expression had not changed.

He calmly noted the way the man had begun the slow slide into the hole, fingernails scrabbling uselessly along the top of the unforgiving and merciless ice.

He thought about Justin still trussed up in his safe place in the boat, broken bruised but beautiful.

He thought about Chris’ words to him, that they are the same, that beneath it all he was a killer just like Chris.

He knew that his first instinct when Justin was threatened was to kill without compunction.

He also saw Justin’s face and brilliant smile, his blue eyes glittering with love as he depended on Brian to protect him, how without words, Justin told him that he was a hero, a lover, a human being, who loved and was loved in return.

He also knew he could just sit here and nature would do his job for him, Chris’ struggles seemed to be getting weaker and weaker.

Brian wondered idly how long it would take for hypothermia to kill a man.

He watched and thought maybe the weight of his trousers and shoes would pull Chris under.

Once more, Justin’s gorgeous, trusting face invaded his thoughts.

“Fuck it Sunshine, no one would ever know.”

Brian argued with the air around him.

Justin’s memory looked sadly at him through lowered eyes, “You’ll know, and maybe I’ll always wonder, could you live with that?”

“He was going to kill you, he wanted to take the sunshine out of my life forever. I can never forgive him for that!”

“He’s just a pitiful, fucked up specimen, is he worth losing yourself, losing me?”

Brian stood up abruptly, almost reluctantly.

“Fuck it Justin, how do you do these things to me?”

Brian half-ran, half-slipped down the banks to the icy surface of the lake.

“You so don’t deserve this you bastard, if it wasn’t for a certain annoying, gorgeous, blond twat you could swim with the bloody fishes.”

“No, Brian, you are a lover not a killer, even if you couldn’t hear my voice in your mind, you still would not have let him die. The man who cradled Gus lovingly in his arms and loves me tenderly with and without words every day could not kill another human being.”

“Justin would you please get out of my skull for a minute so I can work out how to rescue this worthless piece of shit!”

Brian scanned the smooth planes of the lake, straining to see in the dim light provided by the star-studded sky.

He caught sight of the thick branch they had been fighting over just a few minutes ago and stretched out towards it, careful to keep his center of balance over the bank not the treacherous ice of the lake.

His fingertip just brushed the end of the limb and he swore as he pushed it further from his reach.

“Shit!”

Brian inched out further onto the ice, spreading his weight as evenly as he could.

This time he gripped the branch so firmly his knuckles turned white, he glanced over to the figure slowly disappearing into the hole in the ice.

“Double Shit!”

Brian raced over to the other part of the bank, reasoning he could reach Chris easier from an angle. 

He stretched carefully out over the ice, again making sure he was firmly anchored to the shore.

He placed the bough so it was close to Chris’ still straining fingers.

“Chris!” his shout seemed to echo eerily in the cold, crisp air, “Chris, you mother-fucking son of a bitch, grab the branch!”

Chris head remained still; the only sign of life his slightly moving fingers, still scrabbling slowly and uselessly on the ice.

“Chris!”

“Triple shit!”

Brian stood up not taking his eyes from Chris’ body for a moment.

He threw the stick away watching it spin over the surface of the lake, rage and frustration distorting his usually calm, handsome face.

Slowly and with infinite care ensuring his body was spreading his weight as evenly as he possible could Brian inched his way out over the lake.

Muttering to himself, “If I die doing this foolish thing, I’m coming back to haunt you, Sunshine!”

Brian felt all his senses on extreme alert, the cold was present but somehow remote as he moved closer and closer to his target.

He felt like he was inhaling ice and he breathed as lightly as he could, all nerves stretched to breaking point, alert for any change in the lake’s frozen covering.

He sighed with relief when he at last felt Chris frozen fingers.

He raised his head, concerned when he saw how blue the fingers were.

Brian whispered Chris name again, once more getting no response.

He exerted himself even harder as he gripped Chris hands, he could feel the intense cold starting to seep into his bones, becoming even more anxious as he realized his muscles did not seem to be reacting exactly as he wished.

He started to pull slowly on Chris’ hands.

He could feel the dead weight of the body, his own arms screaming their protest through his nerves, as he pulled as smoothly as possible anxious not to jerk Chris and maybe crack the ice.

His heart plummeted as he first felt, and then heard the threatening crack.

Brian watched helplessly as first one then a myriad of small fissures in the ice formed around his body and a large one started to branch out from Chris’ prone form and race ominously towards him.


	30. Killer Instinct

Brian froze on the icy bed, he knew one small movement would result in both Chris and he crashing through the ice and he did not doubt that this would mean an instant death sentence.

Although he wasn’t absolutely sure Chris wasn’t already dead, he refused to let go of the other man’s hands.

Well to be perfectly honest he didn’t think he could let go now, not because of any higher moral decision but because he’d lost all feeling in his fingers a long time ago.

He knew he should be fighting for survival, but instead he just wanted to sleep.

He felt that the icy fingers crawling through his system were weakening his resolve.

“Brian you have to fight this, you have to come back to me!”

“Go ‘way, Sunshine, lemme sleep, sleep is good, wanna sleep.”

Brian wanted to ignore the voice in his head; he made batting motions with his hands as if warding off mosquitoes, of course in reality his hands made no motions at all, his imagination supplying the movement.

“No way. You promised! You promised to come back.”

“Too cold, sorry Sunshine, just tired and cold, wanna sleep.”

“You can heat up, think of all our hot times, think of me, waiting for you, try!”

Brian’s eyes stopped focusing on the hands linking him to the body in front of him; he stopped watching the cracks in the ice widen; his eyes drooped and finally closed.

“Sorry Sunshine.”

 

 

Brian was vaguely aware of the multi-colored lights behind his eyelids, but it just seemed to take too much effort to force them open.

He also seemed to feel a jolting sensation for an instant, then that too disappeared under the wave of foggy exhaustion that enveloped his body like a strange but welcome friend.

Voices too imprinted themselves, disjointed and incomprehensible.

His brain tried feebly to make some sense of the sounds, striving for recognition then once more retreated into the mists of numbness, like a mouse racing for the safety of its hole.

 

When the rescuers found Brian and Chris lying on the ice they were sure they had two corpses on their hands.

Both men were blue and at first they could find no vital signs in either man.

As they carefully lay the stretchers over the precarious, obviously treacherous ice covering, they were constantly urged on by a grating, persistent, pervasive voice that filled all spaces in the forest.

Deb was torn between watching over Brian and racing to the boatshed with Carl to look for Justin.

It had been her idea for the other rangers to search the shed, her sheer volume and insistence had forced the three men to head towards the shed, shaking their heads; they knew the extent of Justin’s previous injuries and were convinced that no one could have survived the cabin’s explosions with that kind of handicap.

“I tell you, Brian would never have left Sunshine, and if Justin was blown up then Brian would have been too. Go and look.”

She pinned Carl with eyes of steely resolve, “Don’t come back till you have searched every square inch of that shed. Don’t come back without Sunshine.”

Cynthia was doing her best to fight off the tears as first one then two bodies were dragged from the waiting arms of icy death.

She made sure she was out of the way but hovered close, desperate to see if there was any hope at all.

As the rescuers worked together, she was sure she saw his eyelids flicker.

“I saw movement! His eyes, Brian, hang on we’re here.”

“I’m so sorry ma’am, we can’t find a pulse.”

“No, keep working, I tell you I saw something move.”

“We never give up, I just want to prepare you for the worst. The situation is not good. We have to get these two back to the hospital as soon as possible.”

The paramedic’s tone brooked no opposition.

Cynthia looked with pleading eyes at Debbie.

“You go with Brian, hun. I’m waiting for Justin. I’ll see you at the hospital. It’ll be ok, you’ll see, our boys are strong, they won’t be beaten.”

Cynthia regarded the adamant woman standing like a rock beside the lake, tears pouring down her cheeks unheeded.

She clambered into the ambulance, grateful for the warm air on her freezing face, only now aware of her own discomfort beside the frozen lake.

 

 

Deb raced over to the shed once she saw the first ambulance head off, siren screaming into the early morning light.

Deb’s prayers were muttered under her breath a constant stream of imprecations and imploring for intercession that she was not even aware she was uttering.

Inside the shed the men were painstakingly and methodically searching every inch of the shed, they deliberately kept the pace steady, knowing that haste may mean they might miss an essential clue.

They had discovered evidence that two men had been in the shed and accepted Carl’s assurance that it had to have been Justin and Brian as there was no way Brian would have shared a meal with that bastard.

This evidence stepped up the pace of the search, although Brian’s thoroughness in hiding his lover nearly made them miss his body, wrapped in the tarp.

They had taken the tools, nets, lines and other fishing equipment from the space and did not believe there was any room left behind the bright blue tarp.

The rangers were just about to start packing it all neatly back in and move on to investigating the bilge, when Carl stopped them as he came up from the galley.

“Have you guys looked behind the tarp?” his deep rumbling voice failed to penetrate Justin’s unconscious state.

The other men looked in disbelief as Carl yanked at the tarp and Justin’s body came tumbling out onto the deck.

“What the devil?”  
All those present, including Carl were sure that a body had fallen out and automatically jumped back.

One look at Justin’s bruised; bleeding and battered body reinforced that belief.

 

Debbie had had enough waiting; she poked her head hesitantly inside the boatshed door, listening to the sounds of the search coming from within the boat.

“Fuck it, if those guys think they can keep me out of here when my Sunshine might be dead or dying in there, they have another think coming.”

Taking a deep breath Deb stormed into the shed and straight up the ladder onto the boat, the deep rumbling voices alerted her to their vicinity and she raced down the steps to where Carl was about to pull on the tarp.

The men remained oblivious to Deb’s presence, all eyes focused on Carl’s large, rough hand as he reached for the tarp.

As the men jumped back Deb rushed forwards, crying and screaming Justin’s name as she moved.

She lifted Justin’s seemingly lifeless head into her arms, cradling him and sobbing into his hair, the blankets still entangled round his body.

“He’s not dead!”

She felt Carl’s hand on her shoulder, recognizing the familiar touch and strong masculine scent.

His voice filled with pity and support, he softly murmured, “Deb.”

“I tell you Carl, he’s not dead. He’s not cold. He’s alive!”

Carl slid his hand from Deb’s shoulder down to Justin’s neck, placing two fingers firmly above the carotid artery, feeling the slight flutter, he launched into action.

“She’s right,” he turned to face the amazed men behind him.

“Deb, quick move out of the way, give these guys room to work.”

Debbie reluctantly turned over her charge to the two experts behind her.

“Look after him, or I’ll have your balls!’

Deb’s broken voice did little to inspire the usual fear in the men, but they were both determined this incredible young man should survive.

Finally they were satisfied they’d managed to stabilize the man’s condition, although he had not shown any signs of regaining consciousness; a fact that they were very grateful for as they knew he would be in agony were he to waken from the blessed state he was in.

Debbie piled into the last ambulance with the other men as Carl made his way to the SUV parked in the clearing nearby.

One look at Deb’s determined face and not one of the men even considered challenging her right to be there.

 

The whirring of the machines and the beeping of the monitors were the first things to impinge themselves into Brian’s consciousness; closely followed by the strong feelings that his fingers and toes were burning.

He tried hard to open his eyes to work out what was happening but his eyelids seemed to be held down with lead weights.

Pain coursed through his entire body, protesting this return to awareness until blessed oblivion at last, conquered once more.

The nurse watching his monitor noticed the change in the charts and decided to watch the handsome man even more closely.

She looked at the woman with the crazy red wig, askew on her head, seemingly dozing in her chair, but instantly awake if anything moved in the small room.

Voices within the room were serious and low; Justin struggled to release himself from the coils of foggy numbness that tried to mask the intense pain.

“So there was nothing to be done?” tears made the words almost unintelligible but the surgeon standing beside Deb was used to the type of speech in which tone rather than words conveyed the meaning.

“The leg was just too far gone, we were able to save the use of the arm, however that too was in imminent danger of being lost. The immobilization of the shoulder his partner had achieved when he applied the bandages, saved him.”

Deb looked over at her two boys, wondering how they would cope with this new crisis in their lives.

Both men had just returned from surgery.

“And Brian’s fingers and toes?” again the words were just distinguishable behind the tears.

“There was extensive damage from frost bite, there was also damage where his hands were almost welded onto the other victim with the ice.”

“However the prognosis for both men is good. They will survive.”

“Chris? Not that I care, that bastard should rot in hell for what he put those two boys through.”

“His condition is worse than the others, he is in a coma and he is not expected to recover consciousness.”

 

Brian finally and with his trademark determination managed to lift his eyelids, focusing on the bright light directly above his head.

He resolutely pushed the pain aside, telling his body’s nerve endings sending all the pain messages to his brain to ‘get fucked’ till he had worked things out.

The first thing to spring into his brain was Justin, he tried to vocalize the name only to discover he was unable to speak at all, there was something blocking his throat, he started to cough and tried to raise his hands intending to rip it from his throat.

“Whoa, hold on a minute.”

The nurse leaned over his body as she pushed the button for assistance, holding his bandaged hands down next to his body.

Brian fought against the nurse and the tube down his throat.

He intended his fight to be vigorous and effective, in actual fact his struggles were vaguely reminiscent of a kitten batting at a toy mouse.

His look threw daggers at the doctor as he was directed to cough as they pulled the tube out, 'What the fuck did they think he’d been doing?'

He reluctantly took a sip of the water offered, eying it suspiciously; sure it was not his usual brand of bottled water. 

“Justin?”

Debbie flew to his side; she had slept through all the drama of his awakening, but woke instantly on hearing him utter the word, “Justin.”

 

“Brian! You scared me so much,” she muttered lovingly, softly slapping him upside the head, “You little asshole.”

“Deb? Where’s Justin?”

His voice sounded foreign even to himself, croaking and cracking with the strain.

“He’s here honey.”

Deb stepped back and Brian slowly turned his head to follow the movement.

His eyes widened as he took in the still figure lying in the bed beside him, tears flowed down his cheeks, as he took in the myriad of tubes and wires that surrounded Justin’s still form.

 

“Nearer,” again the words were croaked out from a tortured throat and only just audible above the machine noise in the room.

Deb looked around the room, grateful the nurse had disappeared, she hadn’t like the proprietary looks she was throwing at Brian as she ministered to his bodily needs and she did not approve of the fact that Brian’s heavily bandaged hands were now tied securely to the side of the bed.

She moved around to the other side of Brian’s bed, pleased they had disconnected the oxygen, and that the only thing left to cause concern was the drip line attached to Brian’s veins.

She carefully moved the stand out of the way and pushed Brian’s bed closer to Justin’s.

She saw the light shining in Brian’s eyes as he drew closer, although it was tinged with anger and frustration as he realized he was unable to move his hands to reach out to his Sunshine.

“Sorry kiddo, best I can do.”

Deb moved the two beds together; cautiously ensuring neither were bumped up against each other.

Brian drifted off to sleep with a slight smile hovering around his lips.

 

 

The sun was streaming through the double doors as Deb and Michael pushed the two wheelchairs to the entrance.

The inhabitants were bickering good-naturedly as they said their farewells to the assembled hospital staff.

“I still think he’s trying to hit on you!”

“He’s married with three kids, for Christ’s sake Brian, if it wasn’t for him I never would have left this thing.”

Justin indicated his wheelchair with contempt, his crutches attached to the back.

“I am going to walk out of this place, thanks to him.”

“I thought that was my doing, all those clandestine trips to my bed to build up your leg muscles.”

Justin grinned his sunniest smile in reply, pushing himself out of the wheelchair and grinning a gentle refusal to all offers of help from the enthusiastic staff.

Deb was sure she saw some tears forming within a few eyes as she glanced at the surrounding throng.

The two men had become extremely popular with all the staff at the hospital, their obvious devotion to each other and mutual encouragement through the difficult period of adjustment won the hearts and minds of all those who came in contact with the pair.

Even Brian’s sarky attitude could not dim the high esteem in which the staff held the pair, especially when it was usually alleviated with Justin’s unfailingly good-humored response.

 

As Justin hobbled to the car with the help of his crutches, Brian wheeled himself to the car door, waiting impatiently for Michael to open it so he could maneuver himself inside.

His glaring eyes defied anyone to even try to offer assistance.

All eyes found somewhere else to look as he awkwardly forced his body into the interior of the SUV.

Finally both men were settled and ready for the trip back to the loft and Pittsburgh, the thank you and goodbye gifts were distributed to the astonished and delighted staff.

Brian looked lovingly into Justin’s eyes, saying softly, “If they’ve put fucking rails to assist the disabled anywhere in our home I’ll fucking kill them.”

Justin grinned back in response, capturing Brian’s lips in a mind-blowing, soul-searing kiss, effectively preventing any further arguments or complaints.


End file.
